Back outside in the snow, he knew the job was almost over. And he realised that the time for decisions was near.

He had never thought much about politics. His loyalty to his vampire kin was automatic, unquestioning. Being asked to kill for them had been a true test, a borderline moral dilemma which circumstances had allowed him to sidestep. Mere burglary he had no moral qualms with. World domination? Most of the directors seemed to be decent enough people. On balance, they would likely do a better job than the incumbents.

But his brief contact with this other crowd, the vampirologists of the WHO, had perturbed him more than he cared to admit. Ordinary enough people, but they were making their own decisions; like fish swimming freely in a sea of possibilities, weighing freedom and responsibility, making moral choices. He realised that he had been an ant all his life, marching in a column, never straying from the path determined for him, never imagining that he might take initiatives on his own account.

Checking his watch, he waited before crossing the last open space before the security perimeter fence. Once the scheduled patrol had disappeared, he set out across it, walking fast but noiselessly in the snow. He spotted Davidson a hundred yards off on the other side of the fence, at the arranged meeting point. Suddenly Davidson waved him back, but it was too late.

"Halt! Hands in the air!" First in German then in English, a two-man security patrol intercepted him, close to the security fence but still on the wrong side. Still in the closed security zone.

Play dumb again, though Hank. What am I doing here. Nothing much. The gear I'm carrying is a giveaway, though. It's not looking good.

He waited patiently, hands held high, as the Swiss soldiers closed on him, automatic weapons at the ready but not actually pointing at him. Nice touch, he thought.

As they came to a halt facing him, a couple of yards away, one of them made a quiet choking sound, then slumped. Garotted by Davidson, who had approached soundlessly, invisibly behind him.

The second soldier brought his gun to bear and opened fire as Davidson sprang at him. He was almost stopped in mid air by the impact of four or five powerful bullets, but landed on his target, his knife plunging downward in an arc, over the soldier's body armour, through his throat into his heart.

As they sprawled in the snow, Davidson face down on top of his victim, Hank suddenly saw things more clearly.

All this for a hunk of shit, he thought wonderingly. A doggy bag of Putin pooh. He slipped the ziplock bag out of his pocket, and threw it away as far as he could into the snow.

We never finished the novel, but logically, Putin is the only major world leader who escapes the vampires' biohack, so it would have been up to him to save the world.

_{It is rightly acknowledged that people of faith have no monopoly of virtue - Queen Elizabeth II}