When Ghost's Visit
Wednesday, 4:23 PM
Rupert Giles let himself into his small west-end flat while trying to balance two bags of groceries and the day's mail. He managed to navigate it all to the kitchen and get it dropped onto the counter without colliding with anything in particular. Given that he was living in a veritable catacomb of partially unpacked boxes and piles of books, he felt that the accomplishment deserved a cup of tea. He set the kettle on the stove and turned on the flame.
That's when the ghost appeared.
At least Rupert assumed it was ghost, for one moment there had been nothing and the next there it was, standing in the kitchen doorway. Rupert stepped back involuntarily, colliding with the kitchen cabinet. "Dear G –" he started to strangle out, but the figure in the doorway raised a finger to its lips with an urgent twitch, ordering silence with the gesture. The figure turned back to gaze into the living room of the flat.
Rupert bit back his exclamation and forced himself to look at the ghost, and immediately noticed that it carried a large caliber pistol equipped with a silencer. The figure looked back at him, and recognition dawned. This was no ghost, although he moved as silently as one. The figure was very much human – and few ghosts on Earth were anywhere near as dangerous.
Captain MacKenzie, once of the Special Air Service, was one of the deadliest commandos in the RAF. Giles had met him briefly once several years ago – when a rogue branch of the Watcher's Council had attempted to use Buffy Summers – the Slayer – to assassinate Congressman Jackson Greene of California. The rogue watchers were assisted by an entire SAS commando team, of which Captain MacKenzie was the second in command. As soon as he had realized what was really happening, MacKenzie had switched sides and saved both Buffy and Congressman Greene.
He had left immediately after the encounter and gone to L.A. There he had assisted Angel in saving Faith and unraveling a plan by the rogue watchers to create a slayer army – one created by systematically killing each slayer in a clinically controlled environment and then reviving her as soon as the next slayer was called. In the process, he had broken up the commando team operating in the U.S. and exposed the rogue watcher group.
After that, he had simply disappeared.
Giles could hardly be blamed for not recognizing him. He had met him for only a few intense hours and that had been so long ago – oh so long ago. It was before he and Buffy's 'Scooby Gang' had faced the god Glory; before Buffy had died. It was before she had been resurrected by the witch Willow, and that was before Willow had nearly destroyed the world in grief and anger over the death of her lover Tara.
Willow is what had brought Rupert Giles back to England. She was perhaps the greatest natural witch on Earth. Her power was nearly unimaginable – and uncontrollable. After she had nearly annihilated the planet, he brought her England to study with a coven he knew. They were terrified of her, all of them, but it was the only hope of getting her immense power under control.
She was tucked safely away with the coven in a secret location outside London, and as far as Rupert knew there was no possible danger pending. What possibly could explain, then, the presence of Captain MacKenzie in his apartment, armed and dangerous?
Captain MacKenzie – Mac to his friends – smiled as he saw recognition dawn in Rupert's eyes. He liked being remembered. He stepped past him to turn off the stove and, again putting his finger to his lips, motioned for him to follow. He threaded his way through the maze of Giles' apartment with preternatural grace and stopped by a cheap looking lamp (it had been furnished with the apartment). He drew Rupert's attention down to it.
Directing his gaze up under the lampshade, Rupert had no idea what he was looking for. Then he saw it – an electronic bug. He looked back at MacKenzie, alarmed by the discovery. Mac motioned for him to follow. Silently they maneuvered over to one of the windows that had the shade closed. Giles suddenly remembered that it had been open when he'd left earlier in the day.
Mac drew back the shade slightly and leaned close to Rupert's ear. "Green Mercedes," he whispered.
Giles looked down at the street as surreptitiously as possible. Sure enough, there was a dark green Mercedes Benz E-class parked about a block away. Two men leaned against it, sipping tea from Styrofoam cups. As Rupert watched, they took repeated glances at his building and his windows. He looked back over his shoulder at Mac and nodded.
Mac again leaned close to his ear and whispered, "White delivery truck, by the bakery."
Rupert examined the street and saw it at once. Watching carefully, he noticed that the driver wearing an ear piece, much like a transistor radio. The only problem was that no one used transistor radios today - not with only one earphone. Rupert looked around more closely and noticed a utility worker with a suspiciously sized work bag.
Giles drew back from the window. He cast a questioning glance at MacKenzie, who shook his head. The room was bugged, and the flat was being watched. Explanations would have to wait.
Mac motioned for Rupert to follow and led the way back to the bedroom. There on the bed was Giles' duffle bag, packed and ready to go. Mac walked into the connecting bathroom and turned on the shower. Rupert followed him into the room knowing that the noise of the water would obscure any conversation being picked up by the bugs.
"What's going on?" Rupert asked urgently.
"Well, it seems we're not done with the Ring of Arinoth," MacKenzie replied.
A shiver crawled up Rupert's spine. The Ring of Arinoth was a group of powerful and dangerous sorcerers. The Ring had infiltrated the watchers and engineered the assassination attempt, the kidnapping of Faith, and the mad plot to form the race of slayers. More than that, it's most powerful and most dangerous member was Arinoth himself, a seemingly immortal sorcerer bent on enslaving and destroying all demons – even those who attempt to peacefully coexist in this dimension. He was more than willing to kill anyone in his path – including humans who disagreed with him.
"I thought you had broken the group's power," Giles replied.
"Hardly," Mac responded. "They were exposed, yes, and they lost their commando team. And the plan for the race of slayers. But that hasn't stopped them by any stretch. They've just gone underground. They've been regrouping, reorganizing, and coming up with a new plan – a new objective."
"What is it?" Giles asked. "What are they after now?"
"I wish I knew," MacKenzie replied. "I was hoping you might help me figure it out."
Giles hesitated. He had brought Willow here secretly – there was too much at stake and she was still very fragile. He needed to make sure that she was safely tucked away until she was strong enough to control her power. He couldn't endanger that. "I have … things," he replied. "Things I can't abandon right now," he added.
"Aye," said Mac, cocking an eyebrow. "I imagine it's those things that have Arinoth's people watching you. Whatever it is you're doing, I think it's their new plan."
"Dear God," Rupert replied, suddenly realizing that Willow could be in danger from far more than just herself. He struggled with what to do, but Mac took the decision away from him.
"Whatever it is, I don't need to know," Mac said. "At least not yet. But you need to come with me, if not to help me find them, then at least to keep them from finding whatever it is that you're protecting." He arched his eyebrow again and nodded. There was no room for discussion.
Rupert nodded with much less enthusiasm. "How do we get out of here with them watching?"
"Fortunately for us," Mac replied, "I've stopped playing softball with these guys." Before Rupert could ask any questions, Mac turned off the water, effectively ending the conversation. They exited the bathroom and Mac walked over to the window by the fire escape. He pointed at the duffle and Rupert picked it up.
Carefully, Mac pulled back a corner of the shade and looked out the window. He looked over at Rupert expectantly, who nodded in return. They were ready. Mac indicated for Rupert to join him by the window, and then, with exquisite care, he opened both the shade and the window without exposing either of them to Arinoth's men in the alley. When they were both open, he reached into his pocket and took out his mobile phone.
Rupert looked at him quizzically, but Mac simply gave a slight smile. He dialed a number and waited, not bothering to put the phone to his ear. Outside, beyond the flat's living room and across the street, the white delivery van exploded. Mac waited for five seconds, counting down with his fingers so Rupert could see. Five, four, three, two, one – then, he stepped out onto the fire escape.
Rupert Giles heard a single, muffled shot. For one terrible moment he was trapped in indecision. What was he getting himself into? He could hear the screams from the street outside and the coppers whistles. He shook himself. He'd been in mortal danger before – too many times to count – with creatures from other dimensions and inexplicable powers. Somehow, though, he found the threat of the 'real world' more difficult to handle.
Swallowing his fear, he followed. In the alley below lay the body of the man Captain MacKenzie had shot. He lay sprawled against the garbage, a single hole in his chest. Next to him lay the compact machine gun he had been carrying.
Mac was quickly making his way up towards the roof. Rupert began climbing after him. The commando set a quick pace across the rooftop. Rupert matched it.
"Captain," he called out.
"I haven't been a Captain since Sunnydale," Mac replied without looking back.
"Fine," Rupert snapped. "What about the innocent bystanders?"
"The charge was highly directed. No one who wasn't sitting in that truck was hurt." The commando stopped and looked back. "I promise," he said firmly. "Now please, we have to move quickly." He turned and continued.
Rupert nodded. He had known MacKenzie only briefly, but what he knew convinced him to take the man at his word. If he insisted that no innocent bystanders had been hurt, he believed him. And while he normally would've been concerned about any killing at all, the sight of the compact machine gun in the alley had convinced him that they were indeed dealing with life and death – his own, and possibly Willow's.
Boards connected one roof to another – clear evidence that MacKenzie had carefully planned their escape. He hurried across the first, motioning for Rupert to wait until he had reached the other side so that it wouldn't have to bear their combined weight. Once on the other side, he kicked it so that it fell into the alley, thereby preventing pursuit and hiding their path. They hurried on before they could be spotted.
They traversed several more rooftops, each one following the same pattern, zig-zgging rapidly across the skyline. They stopped on the roof of an Indian grocery and Mac took out his mobile phone once more. Rupert looked around the area in a panic, but MacKenzie smiled at him.
"Dinna worry lad, we're done with the demo." He dialed the phone and waited, this time holding the unit to his ear. "Got him," was all he said. He listened for a moment and then ended the call. For the first time since Rupert had seen him, he put away his pistol.
"Who are you working with?" Rupert asked.
"Someone who needs to meet you," he replied.
"But who is it?"
Mac shrugged. "There's a lot you don't understand," he said, and for a moment it seemed that it was all he was going to say. But after a moment he relented. "I work for a branch of the watchers."
"You work for the Watcher's Council?"
"Not exactly – not the way you know it." He took a deep breath, deciding how much to tell him. "There's more than one group of watchers in operation. You've worked with some. There are others, though. And there are divisions within them."
"Like Arinoth's men?"
"Exactly," nodded Mac. "That was a wee group of them – minor underlings."
"How did you know they were watching me?" Rupert asked, shaking his head in a certain amount of confusion. "Were you watching me? And how did you manage to plant that bomb without them seeing you."
Mac held up his hand to forestall further questions. "The fact is, I was a member of that team. I was the one who planted the bugs in your flat to begin with. Needless to say, I had no problem with having access to their van."
"You were part of them? But …"
"Call it being a double-agent, if you like. I've been trying to infiltrate Arinoth's organization. Not too easy, considerin' that he knows me, aye? So when a crew I was pretty sure was on his payroll needed themselves some freelance help, I took the opportunity to come on board as a contractor.
"However, once I realized that it was you they were following and bugging, I figured that Arinoth was a whole lot closer to getting what he wanted than we realized. So, I checked in with my boss, and he ordered your immediate extraction – preferably while eliminatin' the effectiveness of that particular group of operatives."
Mac waited for Rupert to grasp what was going on. It took effort, but with a conscious act of will, he nodded.
"Good," Mac said. "The first step is to get us both out of here." He turned and Rupert followed him. Mac led the way across one more roof and down into a parking garage. Taking a key fob out of his pocket, he unlocked a blue range rover. "Get in" he said, and climbed behind the wheel.
The sounds of sirens could be clearly heard in the distance as they moved out into traffic and accelerated far beyond what could be considered a safe speed. Mac shifted like a race car drive as he dodged through traffic, skirting around the edge of the busy city and angling towards more established neighborhoods.
"Do you think the police will be looking for us?" Rupert asked while gripping the dashboard as Mac continued to dodge in and out of traffic.
"They'll definitely be looking for you," Mac responded. "At least some of the team would've hit your apartment by now. If everything went as planned, you'll be listed as a kidnap victim."
"Kidnap victim?!" Rupert was startled.
"Better than having you listed as a terrorist," Mac replied matter-of-factly.
"True," Rupert admitted.
"It won't take them long to start looking for this vehicle, either," Mac said, as he continued to dodge in and out of the traffic. "Let's just hope we get where we're going first."
Mac suddenly downshifted and cranked a hard left onto an arterial street, then cranked an equally sharp right and down an even narrower street. He shifted up again and accelerated, running along a tree lined boulevard that was clearly circumscribing a residential suburb.
The blue Range Rover roared into a roundabout and screeched off it like a lighting flash. Then he recklessly careened into a self-serve car wash and screeched to a stop in one of the bays. He pulled the brake and shut the vehicle off.
"Let's go," he said, and then climbed out.
Rupert grabbed his bag and followed. The walked away steadily. Once, Rupert looked back when he heard the water start, and there he saw a plump, middle-aged man in a plaid cap beginning to wash the vehicle. Mac rounded the corner; Rupert followed.
"Who was that?" he asked Mac, who was halfway down the alley in front of a dumpster.
"Just a man washing his car," replied Mac. "And vacuuming it as well."
"Removing all trace of us in the process," finished Rupert. "Won't the police track the vehicle to him?"
"He's been a doctor in this neighborhood for thirty years. Clean as a whistle. Hasn't even done so much as vote Labor in a dozen elections." Mac shook his head. "No, they're going to just assume that it was another vehicle – same make and model. He'll be fine." Mac nodded reassuringly. "Now, give me your wallet. Take the cash out."
Rupert complied. Mac took off his jacket, spread it on top of the dumpster, and then removed his pistol from its holster. He quickly stripped down the pistol to component parts on top his jacket, reserving the firing pin and the silencer. He added Rupert's wallet to the pile. He rolled it all up and tossed it into the dumpster.
"Okay, let's go," he said. They walked to the end of the alley and around the corner. There he climbed into a beat-up old jeep, indicating for Rupert to join him. "In the glove box you'll find a new wallet. You're now James Thompson."
Rupert pulled out the wallet and looked at the license. "This doesn't look anything like me."
"It will." The Jeep took off, this time at much more sedate pace.
"Where are we going?" asked Rupert.
"To Wales," replied Mac. "But first we need to see an old friend of yours." The first echoes of sirens could be heard as they pulled into traffic.