“She’s beautiful,” Murphy managed to say after gulping.

“Thank you,” Marc said. “She’s a courtesan.”

Sometimes it was easier to work with the truth. Even if I have to glaze over the specifics.

“Like the Mata Hari?” The Sergeant asked.

That was a reference to a particularly popular courtesan in Paris, who was rumoured to be spying for Germany. Marc had seen her perform, and like Evelyn, she knew how to put on a show.

“Something like that,” Marc said.

To get everything out in the open, Marc reached for the photograph and handed it to Murphy. The man hesitated for a moment, but took it with his shaking hands and secured it using his thumb and forefinger.

Seeing Evelyn in all her splendor actually made the battle hardened Sergeant more uncomfortable. Marc made a note to include that detail in his correspondence to her when he had the opportunity. She’ll love it.

“She’s beautiful,” Murphy managed to say after gulping.

“I… was married for two years but she died of consumption.”

“That’s a shame,” Marc said. “I’ve been where you are, but it was my mother.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Murphy said

“There’s no better motivation than knowing there’s someone back home waiting for you.”

Every so often Murphy would sneak a peek at that picture. The man was trying to be discreet, but to a vampire it was plain as day. Marc figured it must have been out of character for a Colonel to have at his desk, and the Sergeant was probably right.

“Anyone back home?” Marc asked.

The sudden change in subject caught Murphy by surprise. He paused for a moment and even blushed as though ashamed about his curiosity.

“I… was married for two years but she died of consumption.”

“That glow is the threat,” Marc said. “Entirely defensive but it can drain a man of their will to fight and if left too long they’ll even forget to breathe.”

For Murphy the last few pieces fell into place. He realized what happened to Corporal Roy and why Marc had given him that advice. I may have saved the man from the firing squad.

Marc then went into detail on how Murphy would recruit his men, and be trained to use advanced weaponry. Properly armed they would then be able to overwhelm creatures like ghouls and dispatch them before there was a risk.

“I want to apply strategy and modern weaponry to eliminate the threat,” Marc began. “When we leap forward you clear what was left behind, or overwhelm sites that serve as a refuge for ghouls.”

“Ghouls, Sir?”

“That vile creature with glowing eyes you dispatched.”

The reaction in Murphy’s face was readily apparent as the mention of it was enough to send him back to that battlefield. Marc observed the man fighting against a shiver running down his spine.

“Never underestimate the fairer sex,” Marc said. “I dare say that you wouldn’t stand a chance against one of their women.”

Murphy cocked a brow but did not otherwise betray himself.

“Then why not use them?” Murphy asked.

“An excellent question,” Marc replied. “Like me, hunters are a relative rarity.”

That was the truth, intelligence reports indicated there were dozens of teams operating along the lines and their success ratio was dismally low. I never understood how they can continue operating with their casualty rates.

“No man can do what you did back there,” Murphy said.

“What I did?” Marc replied. “True, but men and women have been hunting monsters for millennia.”

At the mention of the term women Murphy’s eyes returned the photograph. It seemed that the Sergeant had no problem delving into the supernatural, but was hesitant to ask about the nude picture on his desk.

“Women?” The Sergeant managed to say after a two second pause.

“Never underestimate the fairer sex,” Marc said. “I dare say that you wouldn’t stand a chance against one of their women.”

“T-Thank you,” Murphy said.

“I assure you the pleasure is mine, Sergeant,” Marc replied. “I want to establish a team of skilled soldiers to operate day and night.”

That part was not unexpected as soldiers were on the line. The big difference was who their opponents would be.

“You’ve seen for yourself what we’re up against,” Marc began. “Let the generals and their armies deal with the Huns.”

“No man can do what you did back there,” Murphy said.

“I plan to expand the latter,” Marc said.

“I want in, Sir.”

Marc pointed to a chair with a back against the opposing wall by the entrance. Private Moreau scrounged it for Marc, but he preferred the ability to turn around and look those who visited in the eye.

As Murphy stepped inside to sit down his eyes caught something on the desk. It did not take much for Marc to guess what the man noticed. He’d have to be dead to miss it.