Celtic Cat: Still with me, that's a compliment in itself. I'm looking for
your honest opinion on the following. This one was tough, but I told you
that already.
Imzadi: Just a cameo, but there is more to come, don't despair.
lilithangel: Me, a tease? I just have an over developed passion for dramatic cliffhangers. Oh, and what did you think of Angel's Gift? Not that I'm fishing or anything.
29 this time: I won't bite if you review, honest. Well perhaps just a little taste. Thanks for reading.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Is that address supposed to hold some great significance?" Lindsey asked with a shrug of his shoulders. "Cause I'm missing it."
"You're supposed to miss it, dipstick. The watcher on the other hand knows exactly what I'm talking about, don't you, Percy?" Spike tilted his head to one side slightly and read everything in Wesley's grey pallor and shocked expression.
"Are you ...?" The question stuck in his throat and he swallowed hard passed the solid lump of dread.
"Sure?" Spike finished the question for him; "Mick the cabbie described her right down to the baby blues. Still think we were right not tell him?"
"Hold it. Tell who, what? Is this some sad assed code, cause I'm lost?" Lindsey was tired and well passed the point where he felt like playing games.
Fred wandered out of Angel's bathroom into the middle of Lindsey's questions. She noticed Spike's presence before she noticed his expression. "What did you come up with, Spike? Anything we can use?"
"You could say that, princess. The key these Myoran's had such a hard on for. It turns out it's none other than the late Ariane herself."
Fred's jaw dropped. Lorne who had been pacing back and fourth during the whole exchange dropped his martini glass. Lindsey, who was closer to anger than any other emotion, suddenly found his knees had gone weak and sat down heavily in Angel's chair.
"We should contact Angel." Wesley regained his composure and picked up the telephone, preparing to dial Angel's cell phone.
"No!" Spike and Fred said together.
Wesley shared his look of uncertainty equally between both of them. "And why not?" He asked sounding calmer than he felt.
"Because he's all gung ho and fired up for a fight as it is. All he needs now is a reason to make this personal and he'll be merciless." Fred wasn't over the fact that they were talking about Ariane, but she was trying to look beyond that initial problem to the more immediate one.
"It is personal." Lindsey mumbled, he was stuck at the part where the girl he "killed" wasn't actually dead.
"He'll find that out soon enough, and without our help. The last thing I want is the ponce after me for keeping secrets." Spike took a seat next to Lorne on the sofa and wondered what Angel was up to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel and Gunn travelled in contemplative silence, tailing the blacked out ops vans to the location they had uncovered. They drove around the perimeter, leaving one ops team at the rear of the property. The remaining van and Angel's gleaming black Porsche drew to a halt at the front gate. The brass nameplate beside the black iron gates read. "The Holy Order of Awen Monastic Retreat."
"It's a religious retreat, Angel." Gunn said, spotting the sign and turning a questioning glance at his boss.
"I can read." Angel sighed.
"Are we going to bust in there with the storm troopers and tear up the place? It could be full of little guys in orange robes? I don't feel good about beating up on some peace lovin' Monks, Angel." Gunn voiced his reservations, trying to peer through the gates to catch a glimpse of his afore mentioned, orange robed friends.
"Buddhist monks wear orange robes. These aren't Buddhists." Angel informed him.
"You know that, how?"
"The sign says Awen. That's the holy sprit of Druidry, that's how."
"Right, great. So no orange robes, what are druids like?"
"Less colourful." Angel answered dryly.
His dashboard lit as his cell phone buzzed, pressing the button on his steering wheel he waited for the caller to speak first.
"How do you want to handle this, Sir?" Adams strong, authoritative voice came through the speakers.
"What are we looking at?" Angel asked knowing the team would have been gathering information en route.
"It's a three storey structure, stone construction. There are no external signs of security, electronic, artillery or personnel. Satellite surveillance scans are showing us between thirty and thirty five people in the building. We've located three points of entry, front door, back door and concealed access through a trap door to some basement tunnels." Adams gave the information with military conciseness. "Your intelligence leads us to think the target is being held in the cellar, thermal imaging of that sector concurs."
"We'll take two of your men and enter through the trapdoor." Angel informed him, relying on Adams to make the rest of the arrangements with his own teams.
"Smoke bombs though four of the windows should flood the ground floor within thirty seconds." Adams replied, "These are the most densely occupied areas and the gas should confuse and disorient most of the occupants. We'll be in and out before they have time to realise what's going on."
"Sure." Angel shrugged, as far as he was concerned the ops team were a diversion. They could run interference while he and Gunn did the search and rescue.
"We keep it simple, as few casualties as possible. I want to be gone with the key before they know we're there. No fatalities, are we clear on that?"
"That's affirmative, Sir. We go on your call." Adams replied emotionlessly and signed off, awaiting Angel's signal to proceed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You must hold her more tightly this time." Rathlyn growled, spitting with frustration in the face of the young soldier holding Ariane in his arms. His scant intellect actually made him believe physical force could take the girl through the gateway.
This was now the eighth attempted they had made. Each time the warrior carrying the key slipped through the portal unhindered, but the girl was thrown clear. Six Druids in long brown robes stood in a rough semi circle around her and chanted unintelligible nonsense. Throwing around some rancid smelling oil and shaking a smoking stick around Ariane's head. Rathlyn was beyond anger, he was beyond fury, and well on his way to a killing zone.
He faced the bruised and exhausted woman and glared at her, his eyes reflecting his rage. "You will allow us to take you over this threshold or I will...."
"You will what? Spare me your threats, it is not me who stops you." Ari's voice was barely a whisper above the druid's mantra. Yet she was sure the man they referred to as Supreme understood every word. The soldier's grip tightened around her and she flinched in pain. She was hurt in places she didn't know she had places.
The druids fell silent and again she was carried toward the shimmering oval they called the threshold.
She closed her eyes when she felt the now familiar cold tingling sensation as the portal touched her bare flesh. It began to mould around her, brushing against her skin without pressure. The moment the soldiers leading foot touched the portal the man became less solid, less there. She sensed more than felt his grip on her loosing. What she did feel was a tightening of the portals surface, like elastic being pulled taught. There was an audible pop as the man passed through, for a second it appeared she was suspended in mid-air. Then she was propelled back across the room, crashing into the far wall, knocking into two of the stunned druids on her way.
She fell to the floor feeling much the way she imagined a swatted bug would feel. She noticed something warm and wet running down her arm and forced her eyes open to see a thin track of blood flowing from a gash in her shoulder. Rathlyn was cursing madly behind her. She didn't understand the words he was using, but curses all sounded alike, hard and bitter.
It was then that they heard the musical tinkling of braking glass and an odd hissing from the floor above.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Is everything set up?" Cordelia asked the dark suited man at her side as she marched down the corridor to her office.
"Medical team standing by, interrogation suite set up, security on high alert and we're waiting for the additional men you requested to get here. We are as ready as we can be." He answered glancing at his palm held computer.
"Are we monitoring the operation?" She pushed open her office door and turned on the light.
"Of course. I had it patched to your desk top, you should see everything through their night vision surveillance equipment." Cordelia nudged her mouse and the screen instantly flashed into life. She tapped the keys lightly, keying in her password and clicked an icon to reveal a split screen view of Angel's rescue operation.
"I want everything to be organized for the instant they return, Barclay." She tore her eyes from the monitor and let them fall on the man in front of her.
"It will be." He answered without hesitation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gunn and Angel waited impatiently in the cold night. They stood at a rough wooden door which appeared to have grown out of the earth itself. Overgrown shrubs, several of which seemed to have taken root in the slowly rotting wood, surrounded it.
They heard shots fired in the distance as the smoke bombs were sent into the building. That was their cue to move and move they did. Gunn swung the axe he carried high over his head and brought it down in one clean fluid arc. There was a simple clink as the padlock split in two and fell from the worn clasp.
Angel, as ever ignoring the chance to allow one of the others to take point, flew passed the two men ops men and ran down the moss slippery stone steps. Gunn was close on his heals, allowing Angel to lead him to wherever the Myoran's were holding the key.
The scents of the building were everywhere. Aged stone and wet plaster mixing with spicy sweat and something stronger, more vital. Blood, Angel could smell blood. It was fresh and it was human, but only a trace. A snarl spread across his face as he thought of the things he would do to these monsters if they had already performed whatever twisted ritual they intended to use the girl for. He couldn't erase the image of Dawn from his mind and the thought of someone torturing her made his cold blood boil.
"This way." He nodded to his left down a dimly lit tunnel. They could hear yells and scuffling feet above and in front of them. That was good, the more men who left the basement and followed the sounds of struggle to the upper floors the better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The six druids eyed each other nervously from beneath their hooded robes. They could hear the sounds of fighting from above, but no gunfire as yet. Who ever it was who had entered their sanctuary were not there simply to wipe them out. One man, their high priest nodded and they filed silently, single file toward the stone steps returning them to their brothers.
Rathlyn had ceased his ranting and had now drawn his sword and his dagger. He mentally cursed the key. If she had crossed the threshold on their first attempt he would not have lost eight of his warriors. He placed himself at the foot of the stairs with his back to the wall, readying himself for an attack from above.
"How quickly one forgets the ways of battle." Granlar thought to himself as he motioned to his two remaining warriors to protect the key. They took up positions one at her side and the other in front. The shuddering girl had managed to drag herself into a sitting position with her arms hugging her knees. What was left of her once pretty blue dress hung in tatters around her waist.
Granlar circled the room snuffing the candles that lit the interior, plunging them into semi-darkness. The only meagre light spilling from the stairwell where Rathlyn stood, sword and dagger raised.
Granlar positioned himself in the dimmer centre of the room ready for an assault from any direction. He also drew his sword choosing a two handed grip for greater control and thrust. He left his poisoned dagger in its sheath strapped to his calf. He steadied his breathing and focused his mind on listening for movement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The smell of blood grew stronger as Angel pounded along a narrow, torch lit corridor toward the single wooden door at its far end. He Bypassed other doors along its length without a second glance. This door, unlike the wood of the trap door behind them, looked solid and strong. There were four large padlocks equidistant down the height of the door on its right side. Someone obviously didn't want just anyone getting into the room on the other side of that door.
It would take time to smash all those locks, not to mention the noise it would cause. He smirked to himself when he noticed the hinges were located on his side of the door.
Gripping either side of the wooden door, he sifted it slightly in its frame, motioning for Gunn to remove the pins from the now slackened hinges, as he took the weight. Job done, the door swung open on the still locked side and flattened against the wall.
Gunn nodded with a smile at the simple yet ingenious method of entry. He would have been hacking at the locks without thinking.
This time it was the two security operatives who went in first. They slipped silently between Angel and Gunn who kept themselves out of sight at either side of the doorway. They crept stealthily into the room with their rifles held poised on their shoulders, infrared beams dancing as they panned the room.
Angel heard the shuffling of feet in the room beyond and then two grunts as each of his men dropped to the floor. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dimness of the room beyond and he held up his hand to stop Gunn from entering.
"One in the centre, three by the wall on the left, another one at the back." He whispered to the other man and then they made their move together.
Angel pulled the sword he carried from beneath his jacked and shot from the hidden side of the door in one swift fluid movement. He crossed to the centre of the room, unconsciously making for the strongest and most intimidating occupant. The man there was ready for him raising his sword and nodding once in acknowledgement. Sparks flew as their swords clashed and Angel maintained the illusion of a composed exterior. Inside he was on the wrong side of furious. He had spotted the small figure between the two men and noted her battered condition.
"Strong." Granlar thought as he pushed the man before him backward. He could hear Rathlyn barking to the other men to stay on their guard and he cursed the fool for giving away their position.
Gunn sprang into action when the guy yelled, heading straight for the ass standing with his back to the room. He was rewarded by almost running into him, who ever he was. Gunn had enough time to be amazed by the size of the guy before he used his axe to block a blow from the sword it swung at his head.
"You ain't gonna get me with that thing, Conan." He yelled as he threw a well-placed fist into the gut of the Myoran. The man doubled over, more mass than muscle. Gunn took advantage of the man's crouched position and raised his knee into his face.
Rathlyn, in pain and confusion dropped his sword. Where had these men learned their battle technique? There was no finesse; it was rough and brutal with no similarity to the stylised practice favoured by the Myoran forces. "It is very effective." Rathlyn had time to judge as he wiped blood and mucus from his shattered nose.
He steadied himself tucking his short blade down and backward in his fist, he waited feigning breathlessness. The man before him shifted his weight to strike another blow and Rathlyn took his chance, aiming for Gunn's heart.
Gunn spun, moving on instinct, out of the path of the whistling blade and managed to grab the fist that held it. Using it's own backward motion he guided Rathlyn's hand into the wall where the knife clattered to the floor, blade sheared clean from the hilt.
He punched the man three times, square in the face then placed a single finger between his neck and shoulder. Rathlyn fell to the floor, unconscious. "Pressure points, dipshit. Don't mess with me I'm a lawyer." He stooped and picked up the fallen Myoran's sword then turned around to face the two men guarding the girl.
Angel was still busy with the warrior in the middle of the room. Gunn had to give the guy credit; he had game holding off Angel for that long.
Much as he appreciated the workout, Angel had had enough dancing for one night. The Myoran was an accomplished swordsman, but he was slow in comparison to Angel's vampiric pace. Granlar's defence was lacking and he left himself open for a blow to the back of his head. Angel dealt the blow, striking the man between the shoulder blades.
Granlar fell to his knees with a satisfying groan. He retained enough wit to slip his dagger from its hidden sheath. On the floor he rolled onto his back and struck upward with the blade. Angel dropped his sword and swept Granlar's hand out to his right. The blade grazed his bicep, but he ignored the sting and punched Granlar hard enough to knock him out cold.
He spared no time in joining Gunn who was now battling with the two remaining Myoran's. They looked young and afraid. Angel balanced on his right leg, shifted his weight and threw a devastating kick at the chest of one of the attacking warriors.
The man flew backward and into the wall with a shocked expression. His head struck the unforgiving stone and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious at the side of the terrified, half-naked young woman. Angel turned to collect his sword and noticed more of their team coming down the staircase from the floor above.
"Basement clear." Adams spoke into his radio mike when Gunn dispatched the last Myoran. "What do you want me to do with them?" He asked Angel.
"Take two back with us, throw the others through the portal and seal it." Angel said wincing. He hadn't had time to feel the pain from Granlar's dagger before. Now there was a burning itch travelling up and down his arm. Ignoring it, he bent down in front of the small, shaking figure and spoke softly.
His hand touched her shoulder and she visibly flinched. She had pulled herself into a tight little ball, trying to make herself as small as possible. "You're safe now." He spoke gently, attempting to sooth and reassure her. The girls long dark hair was covering most of her face, the image of Dawn was still with him.
"I won't let anything happen to you." He tried again, this time when his hand reached out he touched only her hair and began to draw it back over her shoulder. Her face was buried between her arms and he could hear her sniffing back tears. He looked at her bruise covered body and had to quell his anger. What the hell had these people done to her? While looking at her, he noticed a large, healed scar on her right shoulder. This wasn't the first time she had been in a battle it seemed.
Again he touched her, this time stroking her head. "We'll get you back to your family." He told her, this time there was a reaction. She turned her head and looked up at him.
Blue eyes met brown and both widened with shocked recognition.
"Angel." Her mouth made the shape of his name but no sound was made. Her astonished sapphire eyes rolled and her body went limp.
"Ari?"
Imzadi: Just a cameo, but there is more to come, don't despair.
lilithangel: Me, a tease? I just have an over developed passion for dramatic cliffhangers. Oh, and what did you think of Angel's Gift? Not that I'm fishing or anything.
29 this time: I won't bite if you review, honest. Well perhaps just a little taste. Thanks for reading.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Is that address supposed to hold some great significance?" Lindsey asked with a shrug of his shoulders. "Cause I'm missing it."
"You're supposed to miss it, dipstick. The watcher on the other hand knows exactly what I'm talking about, don't you, Percy?" Spike tilted his head to one side slightly and read everything in Wesley's grey pallor and shocked expression.
"Are you ...?" The question stuck in his throat and he swallowed hard passed the solid lump of dread.
"Sure?" Spike finished the question for him; "Mick the cabbie described her right down to the baby blues. Still think we were right not tell him?"
"Hold it. Tell who, what? Is this some sad assed code, cause I'm lost?" Lindsey was tired and well passed the point where he felt like playing games.
Fred wandered out of Angel's bathroom into the middle of Lindsey's questions. She noticed Spike's presence before she noticed his expression. "What did you come up with, Spike? Anything we can use?"
"You could say that, princess. The key these Myoran's had such a hard on for. It turns out it's none other than the late Ariane herself."
Fred's jaw dropped. Lorne who had been pacing back and fourth during the whole exchange dropped his martini glass. Lindsey, who was closer to anger than any other emotion, suddenly found his knees had gone weak and sat down heavily in Angel's chair.
"We should contact Angel." Wesley regained his composure and picked up the telephone, preparing to dial Angel's cell phone.
"No!" Spike and Fred said together.
Wesley shared his look of uncertainty equally between both of them. "And why not?" He asked sounding calmer than he felt.
"Because he's all gung ho and fired up for a fight as it is. All he needs now is a reason to make this personal and he'll be merciless." Fred wasn't over the fact that they were talking about Ariane, but she was trying to look beyond that initial problem to the more immediate one.
"It is personal." Lindsey mumbled, he was stuck at the part where the girl he "killed" wasn't actually dead.
"He'll find that out soon enough, and without our help. The last thing I want is the ponce after me for keeping secrets." Spike took a seat next to Lorne on the sofa and wondered what Angel was up to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel and Gunn travelled in contemplative silence, tailing the blacked out ops vans to the location they had uncovered. They drove around the perimeter, leaving one ops team at the rear of the property. The remaining van and Angel's gleaming black Porsche drew to a halt at the front gate. The brass nameplate beside the black iron gates read. "The Holy Order of Awen Monastic Retreat."
"It's a religious retreat, Angel." Gunn said, spotting the sign and turning a questioning glance at his boss.
"I can read." Angel sighed.
"Are we going to bust in there with the storm troopers and tear up the place? It could be full of little guys in orange robes? I don't feel good about beating up on some peace lovin' Monks, Angel." Gunn voiced his reservations, trying to peer through the gates to catch a glimpse of his afore mentioned, orange robed friends.
"Buddhist monks wear orange robes. These aren't Buddhists." Angel informed him.
"You know that, how?"
"The sign says Awen. That's the holy sprit of Druidry, that's how."
"Right, great. So no orange robes, what are druids like?"
"Less colourful." Angel answered dryly.
His dashboard lit as his cell phone buzzed, pressing the button on his steering wheel he waited for the caller to speak first.
"How do you want to handle this, Sir?" Adams strong, authoritative voice came through the speakers.
"What are we looking at?" Angel asked knowing the team would have been gathering information en route.
"It's a three storey structure, stone construction. There are no external signs of security, electronic, artillery or personnel. Satellite surveillance scans are showing us between thirty and thirty five people in the building. We've located three points of entry, front door, back door and concealed access through a trap door to some basement tunnels." Adams gave the information with military conciseness. "Your intelligence leads us to think the target is being held in the cellar, thermal imaging of that sector concurs."
"We'll take two of your men and enter through the trapdoor." Angel informed him, relying on Adams to make the rest of the arrangements with his own teams.
"Smoke bombs though four of the windows should flood the ground floor within thirty seconds." Adams replied, "These are the most densely occupied areas and the gas should confuse and disorient most of the occupants. We'll be in and out before they have time to realise what's going on."
"Sure." Angel shrugged, as far as he was concerned the ops team were a diversion. They could run interference while he and Gunn did the search and rescue.
"We keep it simple, as few casualties as possible. I want to be gone with the key before they know we're there. No fatalities, are we clear on that?"
"That's affirmative, Sir. We go on your call." Adams replied emotionlessly and signed off, awaiting Angel's signal to proceed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You must hold her more tightly this time." Rathlyn growled, spitting with frustration in the face of the young soldier holding Ariane in his arms. His scant intellect actually made him believe physical force could take the girl through the gateway.
This was now the eighth attempted they had made. Each time the warrior carrying the key slipped through the portal unhindered, but the girl was thrown clear. Six Druids in long brown robes stood in a rough semi circle around her and chanted unintelligible nonsense. Throwing around some rancid smelling oil and shaking a smoking stick around Ariane's head. Rathlyn was beyond anger, he was beyond fury, and well on his way to a killing zone.
He faced the bruised and exhausted woman and glared at her, his eyes reflecting his rage. "You will allow us to take you over this threshold or I will...."
"You will what? Spare me your threats, it is not me who stops you." Ari's voice was barely a whisper above the druid's mantra. Yet she was sure the man they referred to as Supreme understood every word. The soldier's grip tightened around her and she flinched in pain. She was hurt in places she didn't know she had places.
The druids fell silent and again she was carried toward the shimmering oval they called the threshold.
She closed her eyes when she felt the now familiar cold tingling sensation as the portal touched her bare flesh. It began to mould around her, brushing against her skin without pressure. The moment the soldiers leading foot touched the portal the man became less solid, less there. She sensed more than felt his grip on her loosing. What she did feel was a tightening of the portals surface, like elastic being pulled taught. There was an audible pop as the man passed through, for a second it appeared she was suspended in mid-air. Then she was propelled back across the room, crashing into the far wall, knocking into two of the stunned druids on her way.
She fell to the floor feeling much the way she imagined a swatted bug would feel. She noticed something warm and wet running down her arm and forced her eyes open to see a thin track of blood flowing from a gash in her shoulder. Rathlyn was cursing madly behind her. She didn't understand the words he was using, but curses all sounded alike, hard and bitter.
It was then that they heard the musical tinkling of braking glass and an odd hissing from the floor above.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Is everything set up?" Cordelia asked the dark suited man at her side as she marched down the corridor to her office.
"Medical team standing by, interrogation suite set up, security on high alert and we're waiting for the additional men you requested to get here. We are as ready as we can be." He answered glancing at his palm held computer.
"Are we monitoring the operation?" She pushed open her office door and turned on the light.
"Of course. I had it patched to your desk top, you should see everything through their night vision surveillance equipment." Cordelia nudged her mouse and the screen instantly flashed into life. She tapped the keys lightly, keying in her password and clicked an icon to reveal a split screen view of Angel's rescue operation.
"I want everything to be organized for the instant they return, Barclay." She tore her eyes from the monitor and let them fall on the man in front of her.
"It will be." He answered without hesitation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gunn and Angel waited impatiently in the cold night. They stood at a rough wooden door which appeared to have grown out of the earth itself. Overgrown shrubs, several of which seemed to have taken root in the slowly rotting wood, surrounded it.
They heard shots fired in the distance as the smoke bombs were sent into the building. That was their cue to move and move they did. Gunn swung the axe he carried high over his head and brought it down in one clean fluid arc. There was a simple clink as the padlock split in two and fell from the worn clasp.
Angel, as ever ignoring the chance to allow one of the others to take point, flew passed the two men ops men and ran down the moss slippery stone steps. Gunn was close on his heals, allowing Angel to lead him to wherever the Myoran's were holding the key.
The scents of the building were everywhere. Aged stone and wet plaster mixing with spicy sweat and something stronger, more vital. Blood, Angel could smell blood. It was fresh and it was human, but only a trace. A snarl spread across his face as he thought of the things he would do to these monsters if they had already performed whatever twisted ritual they intended to use the girl for. He couldn't erase the image of Dawn from his mind and the thought of someone torturing her made his cold blood boil.
"This way." He nodded to his left down a dimly lit tunnel. They could hear yells and scuffling feet above and in front of them. That was good, the more men who left the basement and followed the sounds of struggle to the upper floors the better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The six druids eyed each other nervously from beneath their hooded robes. They could hear the sounds of fighting from above, but no gunfire as yet. Who ever it was who had entered their sanctuary were not there simply to wipe them out. One man, their high priest nodded and they filed silently, single file toward the stone steps returning them to their brothers.
Rathlyn had ceased his ranting and had now drawn his sword and his dagger. He mentally cursed the key. If she had crossed the threshold on their first attempt he would not have lost eight of his warriors. He placed himself at the foot of the stairs with his back to the wall, readying himself for an attack from above.
"How quickly one forgets the ways of battle." Granlar thought to himself as he motioned to his two remaining warriors to protect the key. They took up positions one at her side and the other in front. The shuddering girl had managed to drag herself into a sitting position with her arms hugging her knees. What was left of her once pretty blue dress hung in tatters around her waist.
Granlar circled the room snuffing the candles that lit the interior, plunging them into semi-darkness. The only meagre light spilling from the stairwell where Rathlyn stood, sword and dagger raised.
Granlar positioned himself in the dimmer centre of the room ready for an assault from any direction. He also drew his sword choosing a two handed grip for greater control and thrust. He left his poisoned dagger in its sheath strapped to his calf. He steadied his breathing and focused his mind on listening for movement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The smell of blood grew stronger as Angel pounded along a narrow, torch lit corridor toward the single wooden door at its far end. He Bypassed other doors along its length without a second glance. This door, unlike the wood of the trap door behind them, looked solid and strong. There were four large padlocks equidistant down the height of the door on its right side. Someone obviously didn't want just anyone getting into the room on the other side of that door.
It would take time to smash all those locks, not to mention the noise it would cause. He smirked to himself when he noticed the hinges were located on his side of the door.
Gripping either side of the wooden door, he sifted it slightly in its frame, motioning for Gunn to remove the pins from the now slackened hinges, as he took the weight. Job done, the door swung open on the still locked side and flattened against the wall.
Gunn nodded with a smile at the simple yet ingenious method of entry. He would have been hacking at the locks without thinking.
This time it was the two security operatives who went in first. They slipped silently between Angel and Gunn who kept themselves out of sight at either side of the doorway. They crept stealthily into the room with their rifles held poised on their shoulders, infrared beams dancing as they panned the room.
Angel heard the shuffling of feet in the room beyond and then two grunts as each of his men dropped to the floor. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dimness of the room beyond and he held up his hand to stop Gunn from entering.
"One in the centre, three by the wall on the left, another one at the back." He whispered to the other man and then they made their move together.
Angel pulled the sword he carried from beneath his jacked and shot from the hidden side of the door in one swift fluid movement. He crossed to the centre of the room, unconsciously making for the strongest and most intimidating occupant. The man there was ready for him raising his sword and nodding once in acknowledgement. Sparks flew as their swords clashed and Angel maintained the illusion of a composed exterior. Inside he was on the wrong side of furious. He had spotted the small figure between the two men and noted her battered condition.
"Strong." Granlar thought as he pushed the man before him backward. He could hear Rathlyn barking to the other men to stay on their guard and he cursed the fool for giving away their position.
Gunn sprang into action when the guy yelled, heading straight for the ass standing with his back to the room. He was rewarded by almost running into him, who ever he was. Gunn had enough time to be amazed by the size of the guy before he used his axe to block a blow from the sword it swung at his head.
"You ain't gonna get me with that thing, Conan." He yelled as he threw a well-placed fist into the gut of the Myoran. The man doubled over, more mass than muscle. Gunn took advantage of the man's crouched position and raised his knee into his face.
Rathlyn, in pain and confusion dropped his sword. Where had these men learned their battle technique? There was no finesse; it was rough and brutal with no similarity to the stylised practice favoured by the Myoran forces. "It is very effective." Rathlyn had time to judge as he wiped blood and mucus from his shattered nose.
He steadied himself tucking his short blade down and backward in his fist, he waited feigning breathlessness. The man before him shifted his weight to strike another blow and Rathlyn took his chance, aiming for Gunn's heart.
Gunn spun, moving on instinct, out of the path of the whistling blade and managed to grab the fist that held it. Using it's own backward motion he guided Rathlyn's hand into the wall where the knife clattered to the floor, blade sheared clean from the hilt.
He punched the man three times, square in the face then placed a single finger between his neck and shoulder. Rathlyn fell to the floor, unconscious. "Pressure points, dipshit. Don't mess with me I'm a lawyer." He stooped and picked up the fallen Myoran's sword then turned around to face the two men guarding the girl.
Angel was still busy with the warrior in the middle of the room. Gunn had to give the guy credit; he had game holding off Angel for that long.
Much as he appreciated the workout, Angel had had enough dancing for one night. The Myoran was an accomplished swordsman, but he was slow in comparison to Angel's vampiric pace. Granlar's defence was lacking and he left himself open for a blow to the back of his head. Angel dealt the blow, striking the man between the shoulder blades.
Granlar fell to his knees with a satisfying groan. He retained enough wit to slip his dagger from its hidden sheath. On the floor he rolled onto his back and struck upward with the blade. Angel dropped his sword and swept Granlar's hand out to his right. The blade grazed his bicep, but he ignored the sting and punched Granlar hard enough to knock him out cold.
He spared no time in joining Gunn who was now battling with the two remaining Myoran's. They looked young and afraid. Angel balanced on his right leg, shifted his weight and threw a devastating kick at the chest of one of the attacking warriors.
The man flew backward and into the wall with a shocked expression. His head struck the unforgiving stone and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious at the side of the terrified, half-naked young woman. Angel turned to collect his sword and noticed more of their team coming down the staircase from the floor above.
"Basement clear." Adams spoke into his radio mike when Gunn dispatched the last Myoran. "What do you want me to do with them?" He asked Angel.
"Take two back with us, throw the others through the portal and seal it." Angel said wincing. He hadn't had time to feel the pain from Granlar's dagger before. Now there was a burning itch travelling up and down his arm. Ignoring it, he bent down in front of the small, shaking figure and spoke softly.
His hand touched her shoulder and she visibly flinched. She had pulled herself into a tight little ball, trying to make herself as small as possible. "You're safe now." He spoke gently, attempting to sooth and reassure her. The girls long dark hair was covering most of her face, the image of Dawn was still with him.
"I won't let anything happen to you." He tried again, this time when his hand reached out he touched only her hair and began to draw it back over her shoulder. Her face was buried between her arms and he could hear her sniffing back tears. He looked at her bruise covered body and had to quell his anger. What the hell had these people done to her? While looking at her, he noticed a large, healed scar on her right shoulder. This wasn't the first time she had been in a battle it seemed.
Again he touched her, this time stroking her head. "We'll get you back to your family." He told her, this time there was a reaction. She turned her head and looked up at him.
Blue eyes met brown and both widened with shocked recognition.
"Angel." Her mouth made the shape of his name but no sound was made. Her astonished sapphire eyes rolled and her body went limp.
"Ari?"