Witchfinder Chapter 6

By Joseph Black

Disclaimer: Red Storm and Tom Clancy own Rainbow and Characters. Joss Whedon owns Buffy and Characters. Anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. I make no profit of the following except to have a little fun.

Spoilers: Buffy to present. Rainbow to Bear and the Dragon.

Authors note 1: This is a continuation of the story started in 'Rainbow Over Sunnydale'. It would be helpful to read that fic first.

Authors note 2: I can't seem to get Fanfic to except my special formatting. So anytime you see this '{*} anything inside is in a foreign language. And if you see this [*] it's some ones thoughts.

Authors note 3:

Thanks to all that reviewed. Constructive criticisms always welcomed. Flames cheerfully ignored.

Fic Starts Here:

Approaching San Francisco International Airport
San Francisco, CA
8Nov2002
1210 hrs

Cindy Stewart sat in the back of the plane and stared out the window. She truly didn't know how to do this. She was a grade school teacher, not some kind of hero. She'd spent most of her life trying to ignore the gift she had inherited from her mother's side of the family. She'd used it now and then, when lives were on the line. But, except for when she saved Jenny Hudson she had always been careful to remain behind the scenes. Now she was in the middle of a possible Ascension and the fate of the world, or at least a million or so people were resting on her shoulders. Okay, partially resting on her shoulders. She wasn't sure she was up to this. She knew that part of the problem was that she would be working with Willow Rosenberg. She had learned a lot about the woman from the brief time she had hosted the Echo of Willow from the day that Tara MaClay had been killed. Her question to Buffy had been sincere, but not wholly fair to Willow. What really worried her though was the amount of power that Willow could channel.

Cindy unconsciously hugged herself. She had often wondered what it would feel like to be able to touch the magic, manipulate it; bend it to her will. She had read enough, and had her gran warn her of the seduction that it had never really gone past wondering. When she had been Willow she had felt the magic, and she knew that if it had been her, she never would have been able to give it up, even if it had meant the end of the world. The control that the young redhead had demonstrated left her in awe. She wondered though, if something similar happened, if Willow could give it up again.

Sunnydale Police Station
256 Main St.
Sunnydale, CA
8Nov2002
14:30 hrs

"If we are going to have this conversation Mr. Summers, I think we need to switch to a secure phone. Are you okay with that?"

"Sure," Hank said in a slightly dazed voice.

General Clark took out his phone and pushed a button. He held it up to his ear and said, "Mr. President? Okay, Jack?"

Hank stared; his daughter was hanging out with someone who had the President on speed dial?

Clark hit a button and placed the phone on the table, "Can everyone hear me?" Jack Ryan's voice came out of the phone.

Every one indicated they could.

"All right Mr. Summers. Right now your daughter is on her way to San Francisco to try and stop a disaster before it occurs."

"How? She's a twenty-one year old college student!"

"Actually Mr. Summers, she's a college dropout. She did that when your ex-wife was sick. She couldn't re-enroll because she was taking care of your younger daughter. She went to work at a fast-food place to try and make ends meet and then took a second job as a high school councilor, both to make a little extra cash, and to be close to Dawn. In her spare time she was saving the world."

"You can't tell me you actually believe that wild tale she told me, do you?" Hank all but shouted.

"I believe it Mr. Summers, because I have seen your daughter in action," POTUS replied.

"She saved your life, too?" Hank asked in a sarcastic voice.

"No, I've seen her on tape. I'd be willing to bet that whatever tale she told you she understated."

Hank was dazed; there is no way that could be the truth. But, then why would Jack Ryan be lying to him about it? It didn't make any sense! "Then, I have to restate, wouldn't it be better to take back guardianship of Dawn so Buffy could concentrate on her other activities?"

"Ordinarily I think I would agree, however, there are some special circumstances with Dawn, that I think her remaining with Buffy is the best option."

"You can't believe that Dawn is only a couple of years old!" Hank exclaimed. Of everything that Buffy had told him that was the most ridiculous. "Mr. President, I assure you that Dawn is sixteen. I can tell you stories that only a parent can know, and they all come from before Dawn ever set foot in Sunnydale. If Joyce was still alive she could assure you too."

"Look, Hank, I know this is a lot to take in. Believe me when I found out about this kind of stuff I was wandering around in a daze that whole day. The sad fact of the matter is you have been caught up in the gears of powers beyond your control. If you want, I could probably arrange things so you would not be held responsible for Dawn's child support payments. I'll pick up them up and you can wash your hands of the whole thing."

Hank Summers stared at the phone, not believing what he had just heard, Jack Ryan had just offered to buy his youngest daughter! "You go F yourself!" He all but screamed at the phone. "You may be President of the United States, but you can't try and buy my kids! Dawn is my daughter, I don't know what kind of nutso head-game you are trying to pull, but nobody is going to keep me away from my daughters, and even the President of the F'en United States can't order someone to stay away from their family!"

There was silence for a moment from the phone, then, "Maybe not, Mr. Summers. But I can have you arrested for interfering in a federal investigation, which I will have Agent Murphy do if you interfere with Buffy at the present time. If after she is done in San Francisco you wish to continue with your lawsuit be advise that I will provide legal council for her and Dawn."

"You can't do that as President," Hank snarled, not sure if he could or couldn't.

"As President, no I can't. As Jack Ryan, believe me, I can," he replied in a hard voice. "Unless you have anything to add, I think this conversation is over. Good day Mr. Summers, think about all of what I've said."

Hank was speechless, Tom replied for him, "Thank you for making your position clear, Mr. President. Good day."

Clark retrieved his phone and stood, "I just want you to know, I've worked with your daughter for a couple of weeks. Unlike the President, I have seen her in action. Believe what she's told you. After all of this is over, if you want to mend fences, go for it. But for now, get out of Sunnydale and crawl back under whatever rock you were hiding under. You become a distraction and I will have Frayne throw you in a cell until it's all over." With the FBI agent in tow he turned and left.

Hank sat at the table in shock. That couldn't have just happened. It was impossible.

"Hank?" Tom finally asked. "What do you want to do?"

Hank smiled at his friend, "You still with me?"

"Call it a Don Quixote complex that some lawyers have. You're my client, you pay me and I'll take on anyone you want. But I got to be honest with you. The talent he can bring to bear against us will leave me in the dust."

"What because he's President?"

"That and he's got tons of cash to buy talent. Though to be honest most agencies would do the work pro-bono just so he'd owe them one. If you want to take him on legally, you're best bet would be someone like Wolfram and Hart, but if you go to them, don't ever come back to me."

Hank shook his head, "I've heard some rumors about them at work, just shop talk, but I don't think I'd ever be that desperate."

"Good to hear," Tom replied, "But back to my original question, what now?"

"Know any reputable realtors in Sunnydale?"

Tom smiled and flipped open his cellphone, hitting a button he said, "Mabel? Could you find me the name of a good realtor in Sunnydale? He waited thirty seconds then writing on his notepad he said," Thanks."

He tore the sheet off the pad and handed it to Hank, "Looks like I'm not the only Don Quixote in the building."

The Oval Office
1600 Pennsylvania Ave.
Washington, DC.
8Nov2002
17:35 hrs

"Lord Jack, that was a hell of a risk," Robby Jackson chided.

"I have to agree, Mr. President. That could have blown up all over the place," Arnie Van Damm chimed in. "Even now, Hank Summers could go with this to the press. We could prove we are telling the truth easy enough, but it would mean exposing both the supernatural and Buffy to the world. I doubt she thank you for putting her in the spotlight like that."

Jack shrugged, "It's a risk," he agreed. "But, I needed to know if his sudden interest in Dawn was based on some parental feeling or if he was figuring that with the increase he was being hit with it might be cheaper to just take custody back."

"Well I guess he answered that one," Robby remarked.

"Yeah, I think he passed," Ryan agreed. "I wish his sense of timing was better though."

San Francisco International Airport
San Francisco, CA
8Nov2002
12:39 hrs

Alec Donnelly, the Special Agent in Charge of the San Francisco branch of the FBI fumed as he watched the VC-20 that was approaching where he, Special Agent Pat O'Day, and Detective Darryl Morris, the Liaison from the San Francisco PD stood. He knew that the investigation hadn't been going well. They had been going around circles almost since the beginning. It would look like they had found a break in the case, but it just led to dead end after dead end.

This was not something that Donnelly was used to. He had graduated fourth in his class from Boston College. Then first in his class from Quantico. He started in Organized Crime and had helped bring down three major mob figures, then moved into counter intelligence where he had broken four spy rings, one Chinese, two Russian, one military, the other commercial, finally a Taiwanese commercial. He then had transferred to Behavior Sciences and had been lead investigator on three successful serial killer hunts. He couldn't figure out why his experience from tracking down the others was not helping him here. He knew that the break they needed would come soon, at the rate the killer was acting he had to make a mistake, then they'd have him. The one thing he didn't need was a bunch of newcomers butting into his investigation.

As soon as the plane stopped the door popped open and ladder was let down from the aircraft. Dan Murray was the first off the plane and Alec could only stare at the three young ladies that followed him out. THIS? This was the help Murray was bringing, Please, God, don't let them be psychics, Donnelly prayed silently.

Knob Hill Theater
120 Geary St.
San Francisco. CA
8Nov2002
12:46 hrs

The mage, whose use-name was Raven, sat in the first row of the old theater, trying to ignore the musty odor of the long disused building. He was a powerfully built individual, black, with close-cropped hair and a goatee. He was dressed in black: black duster, black chinos, and black ankle length boots. He had a pair of black Raybans on his face, hiding his eyes, but the frown that his mouth was forming gave clear indication that he was not a happy wizard.

Part of his unhappiness was coming down the hall toward him, if the steady increase in volume of the very off-key tenor was any indication anyway.

"Hush little baby don't you cry, Daddy's got you the seventh witch, and when that witch is dead and gone, daddies got two more for you." As the last of the verse rang out a man carrying an infant wrapped in blankets came onto the stage. He was tall, six-one or so, and thin. It was hard to judge his age as he was missing most of his hair and the skin of his face showed evidence of massive scaring down the left side. Glancing down at his wizard Anthony Simmeron asked, "Why the long face Raven? Surely you can't still be upset about my choice of sacrifice?"

Raven only grunted in reply.

Simmeron shrugged, "Speaking of which, I take it all is secure?"

Raven nodded this time, "The spell is still working, just like the others, and the sedatives are still keeping her out."

Turning to the infant Simmeron gurgled, "See, my darling baby boy. Everything is going just like I said it would."

"We broke pattern," Raven replied in an aggrieved voice.

Sighing, Simmeron turned to the other man and said, "Yes we did. And we will again when you take Madam Gravlow, the AFW representative for Central California next week, and when we come back after either Phoebe or Paige Halliwell for the final sacrifice. Right now the AFW has to be asking itself if an Ascension is truly taking place, or if it just looks like one. Trust me, they have no idea that the Charmed Ones are in San Francisco. Thanks to your spell the police are being lead in circles, and the AFW will be convinced they have nothing to worry about. We purposely targeted low power witches for our first sacrifices, for the remaining sacrifices the witches need to be as high powered as possible, if junior here," Simmeron opened the blanket, reveling that the babies chest was covered by intricate tattoos, pulled the baby up to his mouth and blew a raspberry onto it's stomach which produced a squeal of delight from it, "is going to be of decent size."

Raven shook his head, they'd had this argument when Piper Halliwell was chosen as the seventh victim, and he'd kept arguing right up to the time it came to kidnap her, and Simmeron had not relented. Raven internally shrugged, as long Simmeron kept paying, he was the boss, and if it started to look like he'd screwed up, Raven didn't owe him a thing.

Highway 101
Outside of San Francisco, CA
8Nov2002
12:50 hrs.

After a round of introductions, during which the head of the local office had seemingly not been impressed by the Sunnydaleiens, Dan had taken him and Cindy in one car and headed to the San Francisco FBI office. He told Pat to take Buffy and Willow and introduce them to the Halliwells.

Pat introduced them to Detective Darryl Morris. He was currently the liaison between the Bureau and the San Francisco Police Department. Darryl greeted the two newcomers. Personally he didn't see what help they could be, but anything that could help them find Piper before she ended up like the other six he was willing to give a shot.

Pat explained that Darryl was friends with the victims, so he had been taken off of the active investigation. He still wanted to do what he could so he volunteered to be the liaison.

Buffy for her part was half tempted to ask if Piper Hallowell was a witch, but figured they would find out soon enough, without taking the chance of alienating the detective. They pulled up in front of an impressive old house. Willow hissed as she started up the steps, after taking two steps Buffy felt it too. There was something powerful about this house.

Oblivious to the aura surrounding the Hallowell home, Darryl and Pat just jogged up the stairs. While Darryl was out of earshot Buffy asked Willow, "What do you make of it?"

Willow just shook her head, "I don't know. I don't think it's a Hellmouth, it feels to clean. But it is some kind of powerful mystic convergence.

Darryl was waiting to ring the doorbell, so Buffy and Willow hurried up the steps. As soon as Darryl had pushed the button a female voice from the back of the house called, "Come on in'

"It's me," Darryl called as he pushed the door open.

"We're in the kitchen," the same voice said.

Darryl led them through the house, Buffy and Willow checking out the decorations, nothing screamed 'witch'. As they entered the kitchen they saw two women, both on the short side, one with long brown hair, the other a red head with shoulder length hair. The red head was looking for something in a cupboard; the brunette was cooking something on the stove.

Darryl began, "Paige, Phoebe, you know Pat O'Day. This is Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenberg. The head of the FBI thinks they may be able help us find Piper."

Paige, the red head, turned around and opened her mouth to greet the newcomers. Phoebe took one look at Willow and cried out, "Paige! Get Wyatt out of here!" Then she launched herself in a flying kick, right at Willow's head.

The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Ave.
Washington, DC
8Nov2002
1610 hrs.

Jack sighed, there was no use putting this off any longer. He dialed his Secretary of Defense and said, "About that Connecticut thing? Do it."