They once more traversed the labyrinth of traps, although in reverse. The gorge, in which Slinky met his demise, was somewhat less stressful to cross. Jeremiah went first, then Scott had the pleasure of forcefully placing Jack on the other side (and by 'forcefully placing', I mean throwing, like a sack of potatoes). Jack made it across, his landing on the other side a bit more violent and painful than he would have preferred, although not painful enough for Scott's tastes. Jeremiah clapped his large hand around Jack's still somewhat emaciated arm and pulled him up, taking extra care not to be gentle. Scott then scooped Dawn up in his arms and jumped, making it all the way across and landing easily on the other ledge.
"Now are you impressed?" Scott asked
"Hmmm," She purred, "Everything about you impresses me."
"Oh god," Jack whined, "Guys! I've just broken out of a tomb where I've been for the last year. I really don't need to listen to your cutesy love crap!"
Scott put Dawn down. She walked over to Jack and punched him in the jaw. He definitely felt it. "I owed you that, you sick son of a bitch. There? Is that better than cutesy love crap?"
Jack looked down at his feet. "No ma'am."
Jeremiah then dragged him down the hall toward the now snakeless terrarium chamber.
"I gotta say, Dawn," Scott said, "Now that was impressive!"
"You liked that?"
"Oh, did I! Was it fun?"
"Oh, immensely!"
They even made it through the dart chamber. Dawn was very careful and did not get hit. Neither did Scott, nor did Jeremiah. However, Jeremiah was not so cautious with Jack, allowing him to land on the darker tiles, triggering a pneumatically propelled wood dart. He did this a couple times, much to Jack's discomfort. Jack thought it was simply a matter of carelessness, but Jeremiah and Scott knew better. Jeremiah actually has a very subtle but wry sense of humor, once you get to know him.
Finally, they made it out of the underground labyrinth and back into the cemetery. The morning light had just broken and the air was crisp and slightly moist. Since Jeremiah had taken his Indian Chief Classic, they agreed that he was not the one to transport Jack to Ministry.
"Alright," Jack said, "I get to ride in the 'Stang! Look, Scotty, I always questioned your motives, your style, and, hell, everything else about you, but you did have fine tastes in automobiles. So, I take it I get the back seat?"
Scott stepped around to the rear of his car, pulling Jack along with him. "Oh yeah, you get the back seat. The very back seat."
Scott pulled the keys out of his pocket and opened the trunk. "Oh hell. You don't mean what I think you mean, do you?"
"I do. Get in."
"But how am I gonna fit in there?"
"We will make you fit. Now get in!"
Reluctantly, Jack climbed into the trunk, all the time mumbling about how he should have just stayed in his crypt. Since Scott agreed, he didn't say anything, and when Jack was uncomfortably in place, he slammed the trunk lid shut.
*
"So, this is Jack," Kitty Weems said.
"Yeah," Jack replied, as he looked around at the stony, cavernous chamber that made up the primary operating base of the local branch of Ministry. He pulled one of the lab chairs out and took a seat behind an empty lab desk.
"Uh, I would say it's a pleasure, but it isn't. Anyway, welcome to Ministry."
"Yeah. So, this is Ministry. Tell you the truth, this ain't at all an improvement over my previous digs. And to think I wanted to conquer this place. I'm kinda glad I didn't now that I've had a look around."
Kitty walked past Jack and right up to Scott. "Okay, Scott, this is not cool. I am not at all cool with this."
"Nor are we, Kitty," Jeremiah said.
"Kitty, I'm sorry," Scott said, "I didn't know what else to do. It's my brother, for cryin' out loud. I had no choice."
"Kitty," Dawn said, "If anyone has the right to be angry about this, it's me."
"You?" Scott said, "it was me whose life Jack ruined!"
"Well, it was me who got kidnapped and terrorized. Scott, Jack threatened to rape me!"
"Okay, you have a point. I still think I got the worst part of the deal. I mean, hello, vampire now!"
"Whatever!"
"Anyway!" Kitty said. "Fine! Let's just try to calm down here."
"Kitty, it's you who needs to calm down," Scott said.
"Me? Calm down? You need to stuff it!"
Dawn gasped. "Kitty! You do need to calm down!"
"Oh yeah, missy? Well, let me tell you—"
"All of you!" Jeremiah commanded. "All of you calm down! Really, you should be ashamed of yourselves, behaving in such a churlish manner. You are all getting worked up over Jack. Jack, of all people!"
"Yeah," Scott said, "He does that to folks."
"I'm sorry," Kitty said to Dawn as she opened her arms. "Hug?"
"Oh, okay," Dawn said, accepting Kitty's apology and her hug offer.
"Hey," Jack said, "While ya'll are havin' a big love fest over there, I'm sittin' here without a haircut. Where's my haircut?"
"Shut up!" Everyone else commanded.
"Actually," Kitty said, "I've done some hair styling in the past."
"You?" Scott asked, "A stylist?"
"What? You can't believe that Kitty Weems has never done anything not nerdy?"
"Uh, fine."
"Unless you want to take Jack to a barber. I'm sure that will work just fine."
"No, no, you go ahead."
*
After Kitty escorted Jack into a side chamber (making sure that he knew she was able and more than willing to stake him should he misbehave), Dawn, Jeremiah, and Scott began planning.
"We cannot take Jack on an airplane," Jeremiah said.
"Doesn't Ministry have access to a private plane or two?" Scott asked.
"Yeah," Dawn replied, "But none of them are in town!"
"Damn."
"We do have a transport van," Jeremiah said, "With a cage in back for transporting incorrigible vampires."
"Fine then, I guess it's a road trip, like I wanted a road trip with Jack. I'm sure it will be very Hunter S. Thompsonesque. 'Fear and Loathing Pretty Much Everywhere We Go'."
"Wait, Jeremiah," Dawn asked, "Where is this transport van?"
"It's in the garage."
"What garage?"
"The one right behind the rectory."
"There's a garage behind the rectory?"
"Yes. Oh, I'm sorry, I must have neglected to tell you about it during your orientation."
"You think that would have been kind of important to know."
"Anyway," Scott said, "We take the van. Jeremiah and I can drive pretty much non-stop. We won't need to pee, or eat, or sleep, really."
"But I will need to pee," Dawn said.
"Didn't need to know that."
"How is your Spanish?" Jeremiah asked.
"Non-existent. Dawn, I know you took Spanish in high school, how much do you remember?"
"Muy poquito," She answered. "That means 'very little'."
Scott snapped his fingers, as yet another bad idea entered his brain. "I know a Ministry agent who speaks Spanish! Or, at least, I assume she speaks Spanish."
*
"Clackamas County Sheriff's Office, Major Crimes Unit, Detective Montoya speaking, how may I assist you?"
"Hey, Grace," Scott said into his iPhone, "It's me, Scott. I kind of have a huge favor to ask."
"Kind of? What is it now?"
"Well, first, I gotta ask you a question, and please don't take this the wrong way. Do you happen to speak Spanish?"
Scott could practically hear Grace rolling her eyes. "Why would you ask that?"
"Because we need a Spanish speaker, I mean, if you actually speak Spanish."
"Yes, Scott, I speak Spanish. I also eat flan and wear a big hat sometimes."
"Oh, flan! Yum! Oh wait. You're being sarcastic."
"I would have hoped that was obvious. So, are you going to call that werewolf guy next and ask him if he speaks Japanese?"
"His name is Zed, and he doesn't actually speak a word of Japanese, but we aren't going to Japan, we're going to Mexico, so we need an interpreter."
"Wait. You're going to Mexico? Why?"
"Long story, but we're leaving today, as soon as possible. I was hoping you'd come with."
"Uh, I'm kind of in the middle of my work day here at the Sheriff's office."
"Give me the phone," Jeremiah commanded. Scott handed him his cellphone, knowing that he'd probably have better luck anyway. "Grace? It is I, Jeremiah. I have an important assignment for you. It involves a rescue operation."
"Rescue? In Mexico? Really?"
"Scott's brother, Douglas Campbell, has been kidnapped by an operative of a major narcotics cartel. This operative happens to be a notorious and mysterious vampire known as the Santa Muerte. Scott's brother is facing certain death if we hesitate much longer."
"Whoa, that's pretty heavy. Have you contacted anyone like the FBI, the State Department, the Mexican Federal Police?"
"They are not well suited to take on a supernatural criminal. We are. You may consider this an official operation of Ministry."
"Is it? Official, that is?"
"Not officially."
"So, it's not officially official?"
"Not so much. Still, we need you, Grace, we cannot save this man's life without your help!"
Grace did not immediately answer, drumming her fingers on her desk instead. Jeremiah then heard her muffle her phone and call for her partner and fellow Ministry agent, Kevin Ellis. A few moments of muffled conversation later, she unmuffled the phone and spoke to Jeremiah again.
"Okay, Kevin has agreed to cover for me. We'll say I have a close family member who is seriously ill down in New Mexico. We'll run it by Sergeant Bearclaw, he's usually real good at granting emergency leave for personal reasons."
"Excellent!" Jeremiah then turned to Scott. "She has agreed and will be joining us!"
Scott pumped his fist. "Hell yeah!"
Jeremiah returned to the phone. "Thank you, Grace. We will see you soon."
"Yeah, well, you tell Scott he owes me."
"Oh, I most certainly will."
*
As they were still discussing the itinerary, Kitty stepped out of the side chamber into which she had taken Jack to perform her stylistic duties.
"Wow, that was awful," She said. "Anyway, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, the new and sadly not much improved Jack!"
At Kitty's prompting, Jack stepped out of the chamber. The beard was gone. So was the hair. All of it.
"Whaddaya think, ladies?" Jack asked.
"You have no hair," Dawn responded.
"Big shock, I know. After all, I was so proud of my raven locks, but I'm turning over a new leaf, as they say. Reinventing myself. So, might as well start afresh, right?"
"Yeah," Scott said, "But you're bald."
"Yeah, so? Jeremiah here is bald!"
"Yeah, but he's Jeremiah! He can rock that chrome dome!"
"Thank you, Scott," Jeremiah said.
"You're welcome. Look, Jack, think about it this way: in the movies and TV, when a character shaves off or loses his hair, it usually signifies a turn for the worse! Think about it: Walter White? Shane from 'The Walking Dead'? And I could go on."
"Well, it is Jack," Dawn said, "How much worse can he get?"
"Guys, guys!" Jack said, "Look, it's just a hairstyle. It'll grow back. And Kitty here did an absolutely lovely job, didn't she?"
Kitty involuntarily shook. "Eww! You hit on me in there, Jack!"
"Yeah, well, when you've been in the ground for a year, you'll take any port in a storm, know what I'm saying, darlin'?"
"Wow. Not only are you a murderous, selfish scumbag, you're also a big jerk!"
"Ouch. That hurts. I am hurt."
"Jack, shut up," Scott ordered as he held aloft the remote control for Jack's shock collars, "Unless you want another visit from your old friend Corporal Punishment."
"Shutting up!"
*
Grace arrived in reasonable time, considering she had to get permission from her day job supervisor, then rush home and pack a few things. She showed up as the group exited the rectory, Scott having secured Jack with a set of handcuffs (not that they would necessarily hold him, as his vampiric strength was returning with each bag of blood he consumed, but they would at least slow him down a bit). Jeremiah proceeded to walk them to the rear of the rectory where the garage was located. The garage was a small double, with fading paint and rusting rollup door and was not of particularly impressive size, so it was little wonder that the ramshackle car hole was well hidden and easily forgotten.
Kitty did the honors, punching a button on her remote that opened the roll up door. Inside, the garage was as unimpressive as it appeared on the outside, with aged wood supports and dust everywhere -- and one vehicle, the Ministry transport van. Scott wasn't exactly impressed.
"Wow," Scott said, "Hey guys, the '70's called, and they want their custom van back!"
The van was a late '70's Dodge complete with a custom paint job on the side, an airbrushed painting of Mt. Hood reflected in one of its nearby lakes. The base color, a rather unattractive dark brown, was not faded by time.
"Yeah," Dawn said, "It's our very own Mystery Machine!"
"Believe it or not," Kitty said, "It does actually run."
"Well, that's a bonus," Scott responded.
"It's got a 5.2 liter V8 under the hood and a three-speed transmission. Comfortable seating for four, and less comfortable seating in the cage at the back!"
"Great," Jack sighed.
"The cage is wired to a separate battery and there is a controller in the steering column that will send 100,000 volts through the interior for total security. Plus, it's got air conditioning and an eight-track stereo!"
"Eight-track?" Scott laughed. "Wow, the wonders of this modern age."
"Let's open it up, let me show you around!"
The interior was plush, as was befitting a rolling den of iniquity, where men with long hair, gold chains, and polyester suits could brag of their sexual conquests while hitting their bongs and listening to KISS or Blue Oyster Cult. The shag carpeting, which was everywhere, was a slightly lighter shade of brown than the exterior of the van. And yes, even the dashboard was covered in shag carpet.
"So," Scott said, "We could either rescue my brother from the cartel, or we could smoke a bowl!"
"Okay, that's enough, funny man," Kitty responded.
"Anyway," Jeremiah said, "Let us go over our journey once more, shall we?"
"Right! Anyway, there is a secret border crossing in southern Arizona in the desert between Douglas and New Mexico. It's usually manned by agents of Ministry on both the US and Mexican sides. I'll go ahead and tell them you're coming. It's a twenty-three to twenty-four hour drive to the border, so you'd better get going."
Scott took Jack to the back of the van and opened the rear doors and then the cage door. "Climb in, Jack," Scott ordered, "And remember, now you have both the shock collars and this cage all wired for electric entertainment. Well, not very entertaining for you, anyway."
"Thanks, Scott," Jack said, "I've looked forward to this for a long time. Me and you, together, on an adventure --"
Scott spun Jack around and got right in his face. "Let's get one thing straight, Jack: there is no 'me and you'. This is not going to be an adventure, and we are not sharing a moment. Do you read me?"
"Yeah, yeah, sure, I read you."
"Good. Now get in."