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Damon and Enzo were a team for this job. Normally human vampire hunters wouldn’t require more than a single agent even if there were two of them, but these two were different. And this wasn’t a simple assassination mission. This was a capture and interrogation. They’d been killed four times now by different agents and somehow managed to come back every time. So now the agency was sending the best. And were taking maximum precautions. They’d even built a bunker of their own in the next town over from the ridiculous ‘men of letters’ bunker. That was where they needed to lure them to. Which meant dropping bodies. The people the world was better off without of course. Leaving enough evidence for hunters to think vampire without being suspicious to others was a delicate task, but one they were up to.
They left the clues to lead the hunters to just the right place and then pounced with the sedatives and had them underground, and under wards, within seconds. They’d dosed them with enough to keep them out for an hour which was more than enough time to prepare for the show. While Enzo was good at creeping people out when he needed to be, Damon was the master at it. Enzo’s best role was the ‘good soldier’. When they woke up, right on time, Damon was lounging in a chair outside their cells, kicked back casually, with a large knife to start slicing his apple. He was wearing his usual black leather jacket, black jeans, and black combat boots with silver studs, that were propped up on a nondescript crate that would make them wonder what was in it. He knew exactly how unsettling that whole scene was even if it was rather cliché. As expected, the hunters were on their feet almost the second they woke up, reaching for weapons that they no longer had. “Dean and Sam Winchester. Welcome,” he said with a cruel smirk.
“Who are you? What are you? What do you want with us?” Sam asked, eyes darting around for any exit.
“All very good questions,” Damon replied as he slowly cut off a slice of his apple. “However…I don’t’ answer questions. I ask them,” he said as he plopped the slice into his mouth casually.
“You’re a vampire aren’t you? The one we were chasing?” Dean asked suspiciously.
Damon ignored the question and asked his own. “You two have somehow managed to come back to life after being assassinated four times now. How?” he asked in a tone that one would use when asking about the weather as he slowly worked another slice from the apple.
“Oh you’ll find out soon,” Dean smirked. “Cas!” he called. Damon just continued to smirk when nothing happened. “Damnit Cas! Get down here!”
“Whoever and whatever you’re calling for can’t get here. Nor can any calls get out,” Damon said lazily. “This is one of the best fortified locations on the planet, deep underground, and with every ward known to the best magical minds in the world.”
“What are you talking about the best magical minds in the world?” Sam asked dubiously. The Men of Letters were the best magical minds and they were gone. Sam and Dean had everything they’d left behind.
Damon ignored the question and continued, watching them carefully for any reaction despite his seemingly lazy demeanor. “The wards here include runic wards, hieroglyphic wards, Latin wards, Babylonian wards, Minoan wards, Enochian wards…” Aha! That got a reaction. “Enochian wards huh?” he made a show of looking at the small camera in the corner. “Get the research teams finding everything possible regarding Enochian magic.” It was an extremely old form of magic, he knew. One of the oldest, maybe /the/ oldest. Not much was known about it, but they hadn’t tried all that hard either once realizing the cost of using anything but the wards. The wards were known by everyone though. Even vampires could use those. Even /humans/ could use them.
“Research teams? Who are you?” Sam asked again.
“I don’t exist,” Damon said cryptically, with an eerie grin as he continued slicing his apple. “So, you want to tell me anything else about Enochian? Or this Cas you mentioned?”
“Bite me,” Dean snapped.
Damon chuckled and bared his fangs. “Don’t tempt me.”
“What the hell are you? You don’t look like any vampire we’ve ever seen,” Dean asked in alarm.
“You’ve been chasing the nesting vampires. There are actually three types of vampires,” Damon said going into lecture mode as he put his other foot up on the crate crossing his ankles. “The nesting vampires are the newest. They only evolved about five hundred years ago. My kind, the wolfslayer vampire evolved more than a thousand years ago. The final kind, the venomous vampire, they’re /very/ old. Four thousand years give or take. Almost as old as magic itself. I could give you a history lesson, but we’re not really here for that, now are we.”
“There are more kinds of vampires?” Sam asked with a sense of dread. And the only ones they’d taken on were the youngest?
“One moment,” Damon smirked, and pressed something in his ear. They were going for the full show here. These guys weren’t leaving here alive no matter what happened. Even if it meant leaving their rotting bodies trapped in this hole forever. “Yes sir, targets are secured…We’re working on it, sir…Understood, sir. Nomad out,” he used his code name. Leaving alive or not, they weren’t getting his real name.
“Who /are/ you?” Dean asked, yet again.
“You two are starting to sound like a broken record, you know?” Damon said amusedly as he plopped another slice of apple in his mouth. “So you know…that approval to use torture for interrogation if necessary. There are only three people in the world who have to unanimously agree to officially authorize that. Given that it’s against all international laws and treaties and all.”
“Like your kind care about laws,” Sam said disgustedly.
“We /are/ the law, child,” Damon said darkly, before suddenly going cheerful again. Rapid mood swings were always good for unsettling people. “But I’ll leave you kids to think about whether you want to cooperate or not. Just know this…you won’t be getting any food or water until you answer enough questions to earn them. If that means you die a slow agonizing death of dehydration locked in this hole that not even your souls can escape from before we get our answers, so be it. Our greatest concern is that you die and /stay/ dead. The rest is just icing on the cake,” Damon said as he sauntered out wagging his fingers in a wave before the thick metal door closed behind him.
He returned to the observation room where Enzo was waiting and watching the whole thing. “They’re tough buggers, I’ll give them that. They didn’t even flinch when you went all vampire.”
“We knew they would be. They’ve been at this a long time. And we’ve traced hunters back through their family for generations. Even those stupid Men of Letters were a family legacy. How they managed to stay off our radar so long is a mystery.”
“The past generations weren’t nearly as successful at it,” Enzo answered the unasked question, despite Damon knowing the answer as well as he did. While they were chatting they were keeping their attention on the video and audio feeds from the cells.
“What do you think he meant by they /are/ the law?” Dean asked Sam.
“I think he was implying that they’ve infiltrated the government and taken over, but they couldn’t have. We would know if monsters were running the country,” Sam said.
“Or the world. He did say three people in the world,” Dean reminded him. “And that crap about there being more than one kind of vampire? What the hell?”
“Yeah, that doesn’t make any sense. We would have seen signs of other vampires. Plenty of monsters have fangs though,” Sam said, running through a mental list and trying to match that guy to one of them.
“Cas!” Dean called again, letting his brother think for a moment, but when Cas still didn’t come he was getting more worried. “They can’t block him for long. He’ll make it through,” he said in an effort to convince himself. “In the meantime, we need to try for a jailbreak ourselves,” he started patting himself down to see if there was anything useful left.
“Should we tell them that if they manage to get past the door they’ll burn alive?” Enzo asked amusedly.
“Were would be the fun in that,” Damon chuckled. “Not that they’ll get that far anyway.”
“Remember they’re watching,” Sam’s eyes cut up to the corner where Damon looked at the camera.
“Well, we can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Dean snapped.
“Of course not. But we need to find a way to block that camera first,” Sam said.
“Oh those poor deluded children,” Damon laughed. “Like we’d be stupid enough to have only one camera that they know about and is completely visible.”
“Too bad for them they have no idea who they’re dealing with,” Enzo replied.
They watched for another few hours and saw nothing of interest, so Damon told Enzo, “Okay, you’re up.”
“Here I go,” Enzo smirked, grabbing the patch for his shoulder and his name badge that said Johnston to attach to his military fatigues before he took another camera and went in to make a show of attaching it to another wall. Truthfully that one, and the other one they could see, were just decoys. The real cameras were hidden from any kind of detection. He walked into the cell area, not even sparing them a glance, and walked with military precision over to the wall and began putting the camera up.
“Hey. You. Who are you? Where are we?” Dean barked only to be ignored like he wasn’t there. Not even a twitch from the guy.
“Camera number two is secured, Nomad sir,” Enzo spoke into the radio on his shoulder.
“Activating now,” Damon replied. “Feed is clear, Colonel.” Letting them know how high Enzo was and was still calling Damon sir, and that there were people above Damon that /he/ called sir, was part of cluing them in on the crap they’d stepped in and the attention they’d brought on themselves. To help them realize just how screwed they were and that they were never getting out without cooperating and making some kind of deal.
“Yes, sir,” Enzo said seriously before turning and walking out the same way he came in, not even sparing a glance at the two in the cell.
“Hey, you have to let us out of here! We haven’t done anything wrong!” Sam yelled at him, recognizing the patch on his uniform.
“Like these monsters care about that,” Dean scoffed at his brother as the door closed behind him.
“That icon on his uniform was for the UN Peacekeepers. Maybe he’s not a monster and he’s just taking orders from them without realizing,” Sam explained.
“UN Peacekeepers? What they hell are they doing dealing with small fry like us in the first place?” Dean asked incredulously.
“I have no idea,” Sam said with a shrug.
“Because genocide is against all international laws and treaties,” Damon said carelessly as he sauntered back in.
“Genocide of /humans/,” Sam countered.
“No. Genocide of any sentient beings,” Damon said before quoting the relevant sections of the laws. “You two are mass murderers as defined by the highest governments in the world. And we want to know how you keep stymying our assassins.”
“You’re just making that fit. No one writing those laws would have wanted them to protect monsters,” Dean snapped.
“Except the people writing those laws /did/ intend them to protect /all/ of us. Just because most humans are so intolerant that they can’t stand not being the only race on the planet, doesn’t mean all of them are. We are all /people/. Just because we’re different doesn’t mean we don’t deserve to live,” Damon snarled, rushing at the cells with his vampire face showing, before shaking it off and continuing cheerfully. “But you won’t believe anything I say anyway,” he waved a careless hand. “So why don’t you just tell us what we want to know and we can end all this unpleasantness.”
“You’re just gonna kill us anyway, so why should we bother?” Sam asked.
“Because not all death is instant,” Damon gave a cruel smirk. “And you never know…we might just end up being talked into letting you go if you answer right. Or at least releasing your souls to move on once you’re dead.” Damon turned to head back to his seat. “So what’s it gonna be fellas?” Damon was back to gregarious as he plopped back down in the chair, this time without the apple just twirling his knife in his hand.
“We’re not telling you anything,” Dean snarled.
“Okay. We can sit here all day if you want. I have nothing better to do. I’m getting paid for this either way,” Damon said absentmindedly as he played with his knife. He threw it expertly at them, intending to miss by about an inch which ended up being more when they moved out of the way and it embedded in the stone wall behind them. He waited until they lunged for it before calling it back to him, with a smirk. He had faster reflexes than these idiots could ever dream of and he kept that game up for a while, not saying another word, even as they stopped trying to get the knife.
They’d been sitting there in silence for a few hours, before Enzo came in. “Director wants to speak with you, sir.”
“Righto then,” Damon said lazily swinging his feet down and getting up. “To be continued, gents.” This wasn’t part of the plan which meant that they must have found something big. And he was right.
“Director of what, do you think? UN?” Dean asked Sam.
“No, they wouldn’t have called him director. The head of the UN is called the secretary-general,” Sam shook his head. “Maybe one of the agencies under the UN? I’m not sure. I’m not very familiar with international law and governments.” He’d focused on US law.
“Whatever this is, it’s bad. Really bad,” Dean said worriedly.
“You’re not kidding,” Sam replied and they shut up when the door to the cell block opened again and the Nomad guy came wandering in.
“So. Angels. You have an angel at your beck and call. That explains so much,” Damon said, having grabbed another apple while he was out.
“Fine. Yeah. We do. And you can’t keep him out forever,” Dean snapped.
“You might be right,” Damon smirked. “But if he does get through the outer warding, the inner warding will fry him to a crisp. Both his vessel and the entity inhabiting it. Hmm…I wonder if that’s what that little disturbance was a couple hours ago,” he tilted his head in thought before pressing his earpiece. “Colonel, investigate the wards and see if we fried ourselves an angel if you would?...Thank you, Colonel.”
“No, I don’t believe you. There aren’t any Enochian wards that can do that. Not even holy fire can /kill/ an angel,” Dean said with a trace of fear in his voice.
“You’re right. Enochian wards can just banish them. They can’t be killed with their own magic. But the ancient Babylonians…they had something of a war with the angels way back when. Most of their civilization was wiped out of course, but our researchers have managed to piece enough together to get the job done.”
“No…” Sam breathed out, just as Damon held up a hand and put his finger back in his earpiece.
“Understood…thank you, Colonel,” Damon said before turning back to the other two. “Well that’s one down. And the wards are holding as strong as ever. Even the outer wards have recharged. How many more can we expect?”
“I’ll kill you, you bastard,” Dean rushed for the bars and reached through, trying to get to Damon.
Damon just laughed, and cut a slice of his apple. “He wants to interfere and aid and abet genocide, then he’s earned the punishment too. Now. How many more angels are going to commit suicide to come after you?”
“All of Heaven will empty to save us,” Sam bluffed. “Where are your laws about genocide then?”
“Self-defense,” Damon shrugged, knowing it was a lie anyway. “If they want to throw their lives away by attacking, we can’t be faulted for our defenses doing their job.”
“They’ll figure out who has us and go after your leaders,” Dean told him.
Damon laughed again. “I wish them luck with that.” He could tell that these guys were more than a little unnerved at his reaction. “Here’s how this is gonna go. See, now that we know what to look for, we can find all the information we need on angels. I’m sure there are plenty of demons who would be perfectly willing to talk for one thing. Now, you can make it easier on us and tell us everything /you/ know, and in return we’ll kill you quickly and release the soul trap. Or you can keep quiet and just slowly die of dehydration while you starve in that cell that your souls will be trapped in forever.”
“At least tell us who and what you are?” Sam asked. “If we’re gonna die, don’t we deserve that much?”
“How much comfort have you given the countless people you’ve killed?” Damon asked with a raised eyebrow. “But I’ll tell you what. You give us one big piece of information. Something that matters. And I’ll answer that question.”
“What do you know about the hierarchy of Hell?” Sam asked, trying to find something he didn’t care if these monsters knew.
“A lot more than you probably do,” Damon chuckled. They did have a few demons working for them after all. “We’re more interested in Heaven.”
“Of course you are,” Dean scoffed.
“Heaven is currently without a leader and the angels are fighting over who takes over,” Sam told him. No way could they get into heaven to manipulate that in any way. It should be harmless enough.
“What happened to the previous leaders?” Damon asked.
“My question first,” Sam said firmly.
“Very well. I happen to be a secret agent for Interpol and have been since Interpol was founded in nineteen twenty-three. I am a vampire as I stated before.”
“Interpol doesn’t have secret agents,” Sam called him out on the obvious lie.
“Their human divisions don’t. No nation government can be trusted with the secret of the supernatural or they will use it to gain advantages over their enemies and bring about an apocalyptic war. The supernatural divisions of Interpol are the police of the supernatural world. We have agents from nearly every supernatural species working in every country in the world to keep the peace and the secret between humans and supernaturals,” Damon explained. “And yes, our directors are human. The director of all of Interpol is completely aware of everything as well as the Senior and Deputy directors of Special Operations which is our division. /We/ wrote those laws to protect supernaturals from genocide. And medical experimentation and torture and everything else. Now talk…everything you know about angels and Heaven.”
“You’re not getting another thing from us,” Dean snapped, horrified that monsters were running the world.
“Is that your final answer?” Damon asked with a smirk.
“Yes,” Sam agreed.
“Okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow in case you change your mind. I’m sure you’ll be hungry and thirsty by then,” he said as he casually got up and left the room. They didn’t end up breaking though and ended up dying in their cells, so Damon and Enzo just left and sealed the place back up. They might come back in a few decades and release their souls to move on, but that was for other people to decide.