Chapter 10

"Mr Travers, Roger Windham-Price is on line two for you." A woman's voice said from the phone on his desk.

"Thank you." Picking up the handset, Quentin answered the call. "How are you doing this morning Roger?"

"I would have been better had I not been awakened in the middle of the night. I haven't been able to sleep due to the phone calls and emails I have had to send and read. The Chicago team is gone. Ten dead with one in ICU and two still in surgery."

"What the bloody hell happened?" Quentin shouted. "They were supposed to identify and take out one man, at least that was what they said at their last check in."

"We do not have much information yet. Their last report included information gained through questioning Rupert Giles. While it did not help in confirming the identity of the target, it did offer some information as to where the person had been seen. They were going to continue gathering intelligence tomorrow then track down whoever has been causing us problems." Roger stated.

"Damn. How much of a security risk are the two survivors?"

"One is minimal, he was new to the group and was not aware of his true employers. He only knew his team leader and that he was paid. This was his second mission and the first one that actually had a valid target. The other is the team leader, he will have to be silenced if he makes it out of surgery. His prospects for that are low, they are giving him less than a ten percent chance of lasting more than twenty four hours."

Quentin thought a moment. "Make the arrangements anyway."

Waking up was once again pain. Xander thought he had hurt last night when he laid down in his bed in the safe house. It had been a tough fight, considering he took on two well trained men in close combat, after being shot almost twenty times. True, the protective gear caught most of it, but two grazes and one through and through to his left bicep made him bleed before he had even begun knife fighting the final two members of the wetworks team. The adrenaline rush had worn off about halfway home, nearly causing him to wreck the car in a residential neighborhood.

Pulling into the garage allowed him to rest a few minutes before Oz had come out to see what delayed his coming into the house. Seeing blood on the seat and Xander's face, as well as the very damaged Kevlar vest, caused Oz to nearly carry Xander inside. An hour of removing the gear, and most of the damaged clothing, showed how lucky Xander had been. Even through the protective armor, the bullet impacts left massive bruising, and several cracked ribs. It had taken several hours for Oz to patch up Xander's wounds and clean up the blood. Xander had helped for a bit before he finally sat down to avoid falling over. Eventually, Xander had taken some pain killers that took the edge off the majority of his injuries. Tylenol III was a godsend to him as the pain slowly receded. With Oz's help, Xander had finally made it to his bed before falling into a deep sleep.

Now that Xander was awake again, he looked at the clock next to the bed. Nearly twelve hours of sleep had helped some, but he didn't heal overnight. Then he noticed the pills and bottle of water sitting next to the clock. Giving a silent thanks to Oz, Xander popped the pills into his mouth and chugged half the bottle before setting it back down next to the clock. Slowly, he sat up, causing muscles to cramp and bones to ache. It took him almost five minutes to get to his feet, and another two to steady himself enough to walk to the bathroom. Noticing fairly new bandages, he realized someone had swapped them out while he slept, again probably his occasionally wolfy hacker friend.

Once in the bathroom, he took care of his basic needs before moving to the sink. The view in the mirror over the sink made him cringe. In addition to the four visible bandages, his chest and abdomen were spotted with dark bruises. Deep purple splotches scattered randomly across his torso illustrating the many reasons for his difficulty of movement. Gingerly he turned around and saw only one small bruise up on his shoulder. Having dealt with bruises before, although not quite this many at once, he knew that light movement would be preferred to immobility. It would keep his muscles from seizing up and would help break up the bruises a bit faster. That didn't mean it wouldn't hurt, but pain was something he could live with.

Making his way back to his room, he put on a t-shirt and sweat pants. Grabbing the half empty water bottle, he headed for the stairs to get some food from the kitchen downstairs. Surprisingly, going down the stairs was not as difficult as he had anticipated. Upon reaching the kitchen, he found Oz sitting at the table enjoying several sandwiches nearly overloaded with meat. Wordlessly, Oz pointed to the other plate sitting in front of an empty chair with a similar load.

"Thanks man." Xander smirked. "Appreciate the help last night."

Oz nodded as he continued eating. Xander joined him in silent chewing, only taking breaks from that activity to drink the rest of the water and the cup of coffee sitting near his plate. Once the meal was finished, Xander stood up, muscles still stiff and beginning to cramp from being unused even for a few minutes.

"Ya know, they never show this in the movies. They show the gun fights, and show people getting hit, but they never show how much it will hurt even if you are wearing Kevlar. They are always back in the action within hours at top speed." Xander commented.

Chuckling, Oz nodded. "Hollywood."

"True, it would make a really crappy movie if the hero was down for several days after each time his vest caught one, or in my case a lot more than one." Cocking his head slightly, Xander asked. "Did my little adventure last night make the news today?"

Oz shook his head. "Quiet"

"Oh well. I am going to do some stretching in front of the TV and see what lies they are telling today." Xander picked up both of their plates as he finished talking and walked them to the sink. Then he went to the fridge and pulled out a pair of cokes and passed one to Oz before heading to the living room. Xander spent the next hour gently stretching his muscles and easing them into a greater range of motion. It would not do well to lose agility when facing what Xander knew was coming.

His stretches were ended when his cell phone rang.

"Yeah."

"It's Giles. I have some rather disturbing news from the Devon coven."

"I am already in pain, so lay it on me."

"Their seers have all begun talking of a major shakeup in the supernatural world. Given what the seers have told the coven, they have already broken off all ties to the Watcher's Council and are now isolating themselves from almost all outsiders until the situation has resolved itself."

Xander replied. "That sounds ominous."

"Indeed it does. Luckily for us I have a childhood friend in the coven, and since I am no longer part of the council, I am allowed contact with several small restrictions. Unfortunately, the rest of the news is not good either, and hits a little closer to home. After my friend called me, I spent nearly two hours on the phone confirming events to the best of my ability."

"Giles, spit it out already. How bad is it?"

"Xander, The Slayer Kennedy is dead." Giles's voice was subdued, even over the phone.

"Fuck. What happened?" Came the angered reply.

"I am not entirely sure. She and her watcher were found after dawn this morning by a jogger in Wilkin's Park. Mr Mortinson, her watcher, was bound to a tree with chains. His hands and feet were cut off, and his eyes and tongue were also missing. He is currently at Sunnydale Memorial Hospital in critical condition due to the torture he also endured and they placed him in a medically induced coma."

"I didn't ask about the council stooge. I asked about Kennedy." Xander growled.

After a moment of silence, Giles continued. "I am sorry Xander. It is very disturbing. I lost what I had in my stomach before I finished the first page of the medical report." Giles took a deep breath. "From what the report states, she was overpowered. Once she was restrained, they bent her over a fallen tree and chained her down. Over the next few hours, she was beaten and repeatedly violated. Once they were finished, they inserted a five foot length piece of rebar between her legs and forced it through until the end came out of her mouth. The skewered her in such a way as to leave her alive and combined with the chains and torture, she was in excruciating pain for many hours and completely unable to move. When she was discovered, she was still alive and chained down. She died during emergency surgery several hours later."

All Giles could hear was a low growl from the phone as he finished speaking. It grew louder until Xander's voice shouted. "SHE WAS THIRTEEN YEARS OLD!"

"I know. I am sorry more could not be done to help her."

Xander retorted. "Her damned watcher refused to let anyone provide back up. He threw out all of the equipment I set up for them to use because it was not approved by the Watcher's Council. I damn near gift wrapped it and set it on their doorstep. Instead he gave her twigs, a barely working crossbow, and a sword that had more rust than metal. This WILL NOT happen again!"

"Then what do you propose we do, Xander? We do not have the resources to deal with this." Giles commented.

"Get ready to work your ass off, Giles. All Watcher's Council agents in North America are going to have their cover's blown today. Oz has located every one of them on the payroll. All of the current potentials in the United States and their watchers are going to be in for a rough time. I am taking care of the demon problem in Sunnydale tonight. I am tired of playing nice with the demons. If they will not police themselves, then we will do it for them. No mercy, no quarter, no exceptions."

Before Giles could respond, the call was ended.

Oz was busy at his computer. Xander had been quite irate, nearly destroying Oz's eardrums. Considering the actions, or rather stupidity of the council and demons, another slayer was dead after less than a month. Xander's instructions had been clear, he would deal with the demons himself, while Oz covered his side of things. If the first set of information sent to the feds had stirred up a hornet's nest, this next set would be the live action version of the old movie 'The Swarm'.

Sitting down at his computer, he began working on the tasks Xander had asked, more like ordered. First was making some changes to phone records, to make the investigators believe the council and it's associates were responsible for the explosion in Los Angeles as well as any further use of the same explosives in the near future. Next was the complete draining of every account associated with the council's informants, employees, and associates in the United States. This included moles in federal agencies, watchers, and many others. The third piece to play was sending a massive set of files to multiple federal agencies and high level government officials. Between the dozen agencies that used three letter abbreviations and the Presidential appointees in office, the council would have no useful sources of information or ways to bypass legal requirements. The only council assets not outed were the remaining wetworks teams. Oz and Xander had deemed it too dangerous to reveal them to the feds.

The last piece would take a while. Oz had obtained the names of every Slayer who had been in America over the last fifty years. Xander had asked Oz to ignore the official cause of death given by the council through 'copies' of past watcher's diaries. Xander did not believe for a moment that every Slayer had died from demon attacks. Oz had agreed with him. While this was taking place, Oz had also begun running traces on every potential Giles had remembered the names for or could acquire. Xander had been curious as to where they went or did after they turned eighteen and were no longer able to be called as Slayer. Between the information Giles had provided, and what he had already been able to gather as basic background info on past Slayers over the last thirty years, Oz had already seen that the known estimate of Slayer lifespans was woefully inaccurate. Instead of eight to ten months, it appeared that Slayers in America lasted closer to six weeks. Oz wondered if Giles was aware of the glaring lies he had been told by the council.

It was just before four in the afternoon when a massive file dump hit the FBI's email server. It also arrives at the ATF, CIA, NSA, ICE, NCIS, CID, and many other agencies. Moments later, it arrived at other servers, ones used by such as the Supreme Court, Attorney General, Secretary of Defense, Secretary of State, and most other political appointees. Congressmen, Senators, Governors, and the President all received emails notifying them of the massive list of foreign agents currently employed by the federal government.

Tobias Fornell had been reviewing the information so far uncovered into the city of Sunnydale and it's employees. At the current time, nearly thirty were using false identities due to being wanted by various law enforcement agencies across the country. Between the fake cops, and rampant identity fraud that made up most of the remaining city staff, Fornell felt numb. On one hand, uncovering this level of corruption that met RICO standards was a career maker; while on the other it depressed him that this many people could fly under the radar for so long and get away with it. By the mortality statistics combined with the missing persons reports, it was beginning to look like this small city in California had very nasty secrets. For a population of just over forty thousand, in the last three decades nearly fifty thousand people had either died there or just disappeared.

As he began to stand up and head to his boss's office, a ping from his computer drew his attention. Checking the notification, he opened his email program and read the new arrival. He had to re-read it three times before it clicked in his brain and moved the mouse to open it. There in black and white, sorted by agency then alphabetically, were names of several hundred government employees. In columns after each name was the agency or military branch they fell under, as well as addresses, bank account info, and a link to each person's individual file contained in a staggeringly large series of files. Falling back into his chair, he stared at the monitor then laid his head on his desk. To no one in particular, his only response was "Well. Shit."

It was nearing dusk when the phone rang at Willie's. Picking up the handset, he greeted his caller. "What do ya want." The way he spoke made it less a question than a reflexive response.

"Well, world peace, lifetime supply of Twinkies, but I will settle for you passing along a message to all of your customers for the rest of the night." Came the voice on the other end.

"And why the fuck would I do that? I'm not your answering service." Willie replied. '

"Because if you don't, I will ram a truck loaded with enough C-4 to send your bar into low earth orbit and then watch it go from half a mile away."

"Who the hell are you?" Willie asked. Sweat was beginning to form on his forehead.

"Aww, you don't remember me. By the way, hired a new bouncer yet?" The almost jovial voice asked.

"Ok. Ok. What's the message? I'll pass it along." Willie said as he picked up a pen and a notepad from under the bar top.

"It's simple. Two days ago I told you and your customers the rules. No one seems to want to listen. In the last two days, more than fifty people are dead due to demon attacks of some kind. That includes a thirteen year old girl who was beaten, raped, tortured, and impaled. At this point, it does not matter who did it. I flat out stated that Slayers were OFF LIMITS!"

"I can't control what my customers do outside my bar. And there are a bunch of demons that don't come here." Willie was getting nervous as he spoke.

"Not my problem. Here is what will happen. Tonight, three hours after midnight I will unleash my wrath on the demons of Sunnydale. If they refuse to follow the rules, or police themselves, I will have to do it for them. I don't care where they are, who they are, or how peaceful they are anymore. They had their chance, now it is my turn." The phone line went dead. Willie's shaking hand returned the handset to the phone. Somehow he did not think being open late would be a good idea tonight.

At five minutes till three in the morning, Xander sat with Oz on the peak of the safe house roof. Being two stories with an attic above, it was even with the tallest buildings for many blocks. In one hand was a freshly opened can of coke, and in the other was a remote trigger. Xander had planned out his response to the demons if they refused to clean up their activities, and leave humans alone. Before his last visit to Willie's, Xander and Oz had placed fourteen explosive devices at various points down inside the tunnels under Sunnydale. Since then, he had placed a few more in areas he could access while working alone.

The twenty two charges were somewhat different than the ones they had used to eliminate the council safe house and it's occupants outside Los Angeles. Instead of using the smaller propane tanks commonly sold for BBQ grills, Xander had picked up the larger tanks normally found on an RV. This doubled the amount of propane and anhydrous hydrogen peroxide that would be used. Each tank was wrapped with three rings of detcord that had been woven into rope. Unfortunately, he was running low on dynamite, so each tank was capped with a thermite charge on an electrical trigger. Xander figured it would take more bang to clear out the massive network of utility tunnels and storm drains.

With one minute left till showtime, Xander looked to Oz and spoke. "It pays to plan ahead. I'll bet demons have been running around for hours trying to find me."

"Probably." Was the response from the normally stoic Oz.

"This should teach the demons that I don't make idle threats." Xander checked his watch. "Here we go!" He flipped the cover off the switch and pressed the switch to the 'detonate' position.

Sunday and her vampire minions were returning to their abandoned frat house via the tunnel system. For years she had used the same methods for finding food. It was also a good way to keep up on fashion and pick up some much needed cash. Earlier tonight, she and her minions had taken two freshmen out for dinner. That neither would be seen again was not a problem in her mind. As her minions had cleaned out their shared room in the UC Sunnydale dorms, she had prepared notes saying that the students couldn't take the pressure of college life and were leaving. It made for fewer questions in the long run.

They were about halfway back to their lair when the ground shook. Steadying herself, she looked back toward her minions to see if they were still carrying the loot. Verifying the newly acquired items were undamaged, she turned to face forward again just as a wind kicked up. Freezing in place, she saw an orange glow far ahead. Before she could determine what it was, a wall of force and flame struck her and her minions, reducing them to dust.

Spike and Drucilla were enjoying themselves. A few fresh minions had picked up some happy meals on legs for the two masters to enjoy. Holed up in an abandoned warehouse, they were pretty well off compared to most other vampires. Since someone had taken out the two Slayers a couple weeks ago, and the new slayer being a scrawny child, it was time for new management and a new order on the Hellmouth.

Just as Drucilla was about to finish her drink, a handsome Latino stoned out of his mind on weed, she sat up and dropped her dinner. Spike knew what this meant, a vision. Her visions may sound like nonsense, but he had not survived this long by believing they were. He watched as the vampress stood holding Mrs Edith in the crook of her arm. She looked to the sky, then down toward the ground.

"Mrs Edith says wrath is coming fast, burning winds to carry us away. The stars say kitten is angry. The baby Slayer is dead and kitten is unleashing his rage. Revenge is served cold, but punishment is hot and terrible. Oh my dear Spike, it will be here soon!"

"The new Slayer is dead? And you say the whelp is gonna be coming?" Spike asked.

"No, my dear Spike, my kitten does not have to come himself. His wrath is so great. Its too late, now." Drucilla responded.

As she finished speaking, a flood of fire washed out from the basement, crashing over the group of vampires. The warehouse was too weak and small to contain the blaze and shattered the blacked out windows letting the hot winds carry the dusty remains of the two vampire lovers to mingle forever.

Mayor Wilkins was curious. Willie had called him and delivered the message from the recently arrived demon hunter. It was likely in response to the death of the Slayer that had been called since the two others had been killed. Thinking a moment, he remembered her name being 'Kennedy'. Now he sat at home in the study on the second floor. From his rather comfortable chair, he looked out over Sunnydale. For a century, he had been preparing for his Ascension later this year. Three more days till the dedication ceremony that would provide him one hundred days of invincibility. If the hunter survived tonight, considering how many demons were currently searching for him throughout cemeteries and other non-residential areas, maybe it would be nice to take care of it himself. That brought a smile to his face as he thought about it.

A sharp pain gripped his chest and he felt his heart skip a beat. Glancing out the window, he saw a beautiful and terrifying sight. Instead of a sleepy town, he saw flames erupt from dozens... no hundreds of different places. Another surge of pain struck him. Quickly he stood, and took a closer look out the window. Turning his eyes toward City Hall, he knew things were not going to be as he had planned. City Hall was gone, and with it were the enchantments attached to his position of Mayor. It was also where he had placed the anchor for his power. A stronger wave of pain brought him to one knee.

"No. He couldn't have known about me."

Richard Wilkins the first, as well as second and third, fell to his hands and knees as power was ripped from his body. Many of his bargains for power had been channeled through his position and City Hall itself. He began to writhe in agony as contracts were severed, removing all of the benefits he had received from them. In mere moments, the power he had was drained, leaving a desiccated corpse on the floor in it's place.

Under the library at Sunnydale High School, the Hellmouth shook. The ground cracked and broke open the seal that had been in place for many years. The last time it had opened was two years before when the Master, Heinrich Nest, had been freed. The short duration of that event had merely been a hiccup in the protections put in place to prevent hell on earth. The final blow to open the Hellmouth came with the intense pressure of a shock wave. The same wave that had filled the tunnels and sewers for miles around met in one location, the seal. Traveling at more than fifty times the speed of sound, and amplified by the multiple detonations in the network of underground passageways, the wave of force and heat struck the seal with more power than a runaway freight train. It shattered and was propelled down into the mouth of hell itself. The demons that had been locked away behind the seal never knew, they simply ceased to exist.

At the same moment the seal was destroyed, thus opening the Hellmouth, the final remnants of an extremely powerful spell were undone. For a century, the power of the Hellmouth had been siphoned, with most of the energy being stored for use by Richard Wilkins, unleashed it returned to it's original source. The siphon had been necessary to prevent the Hellmouth from opening a century ago. Power, far more than any god could claim and more than any sane god could even begin to control, slammed into the Hellmouth mere moments after it had opened. The effect was catastrophic, for one dimension. Conduits, even those that bridge dimensions, require a certain level of power to open or maintain. The power that returned to the Hellmouth dwarfed that level by many orders of magnitude causing the Hellmouth to implode with most of the backlash traveling through to hell.

The damage from the Hellmouth to Sunnydale was relatively minor. A perfect half sphere of earth was missing measuring six hundred feet deep and twelve hundred feet wide. Everything inside that area was simply gone. It left parts of the school building and grounds that fell outside that exact boundary. The remains of the structures looked as if God had cut them with a knife, taking the missing matter and leaving the rest completely unharmed. On the other end of the dimensional portal, the damage was exponentially greater. The wave of power and destruction rolled across the surface, extinguishing all life on the planet itself.

Xander and Oz sat a moment after the bombs were triggered. Neither noticed anything at first, but within a few seconds the ground began to shake and every light in Sunnydale went out. Nearly at the same moment, jets of fire rose out from hundreds of openings from manholes to street drains. Warehouses and many other buildings across the industrial and commercial areas sprouted their own fires before shattering into flying debris. Then the sound hit them, a series of loud blasts not quite in harmony with the growing rumble from the ground itself. All over Sunnydale, the earth erupted if the weight of the ground over the tunnels and sewers was not sufficient to hold back the pressure.

Xander and Oz stared in mute amazement and horror at the destruction. Unable to move or form words, they watched as secondary fires and explosions proceeded to rapidly gain purchase. City Hall, the Police Station, and the City Court House were all visible from their vantage point, and the two observers were witness to the complete destruction of these monuments to small town life. A moment later, a deep red glow surged from the shattered remains of City Hall and flew toward the High School. Unable to speak, they watched in terrified wonder as the Hellmouth was overloaded. Soon they were staring at the empty place that once held the High School, the void illuminated by the fires spread over the nearby area. Oz gave a short glace toward Xander, only to see Xander's shocked face and his jaw hanging.

Xander looked down at his hand, and the trigger he still held. "Oops."

"Wow." Was the monosyllabic reply from Oz.

"Um. I ... Oops." With his brain overwhelmed, a complete sentence was currently eluding Xander.

"Overkill?" Oz inquired.

"Um... Yeah. Just a bit." Xander answered as his brain finally began reconnecting to his mouth.

"Hellmouth"

"I think its gone." Xander thought a moment. "You did put those partially assembled bombs on the council's plane, right?"

Oz nodded his ascent.

"Think the feds may look into this?" Xander asked.

The two teens locked eyes a moment, then simultaneously started down off the roof.