Friday, 8:13 pm - Slayer Safehouse
Marie fidgeted a bit, checking her sword once more for weight and balance. It was an unnecessary exercise at the moment, but she decided to do it anyway to help her calm down. So far, the exercise was failing. Her heart kept beating faster and faster, as if it were set to a rhythm reserved for the most uninhibited and chaotic music. She was sweating, not profusely, but enough for all to know she was nervous. She closed her eyes to stow the fear, only to jump at Dawn's hand on her shoulder.
"Are you all right, Marie?" Dawn asked.
"Just... just a little nervous. I mean, I've patrolled and taken a couple of vamps out, but I've never done anything like this, trying to save millions from dying. It's just a little...
"Overwhelming? Dizzying? Mind-boggling?" Dawn interjected. Marie looked at Dawn in mild surprise. "How did...?"
"I helped Buffy take on The First in Sunnydale. I know exactly what you're feeling. Just remember: don't die. Got it?"
Marie smiled a bit and replied, "Got it."
Kennedy walked up to Dawn and spoke to the young woman. "Are you sure about this? I mean, it's not like back in Sunnydale, when we needed everyone we could get. You don't have to..."
"I know I don't have to," Dawn interrupted, a resolute look on her face. "But I'm going to anyway. Too much is at stake for me to sit it out and nobody is gonna talk me out of it. Besides, you still need everyone you can get."
Kennedy smiled. She admired that kind of fight in anyone. She turned to the group and called them to attention. "Alright, listen everyone. We've got only a few hours to get to the island and stop Amy from activating that point." She pointed to a spot on a map of the island. "By our calculations, this spot will be the designated point, in this abandoned building, I know, clichéd, but it's there. Local info has got her recruiting help and they'll probably be blocking this entrance. We've got estimates of forty to sixty lackeys. We'll have to attack them head on and en masse; splitting our people up is too dangerous considering we don't know how many Amy's recruited. She knows we're coming. That's why our best bet is to get up to the steps of the building and hold the top so a small force can enter and engage Amy. It's absolutely imperative we get and maintain control of the entrance. Understood? Giles will have the details of the attack."
Friday, 8:41 pm - Residence of Amy Madison-Vitelli
Amy sat in her office, on the floor, meditatively. She had been this way for hours slowly focusing on recharging herself from last night's endeavor. The attacks had gone even better than planned. News stations across the country and in some parts of the world were buzzing about "The Mafia Massacre", as they had dubbed it, speculating on who was responsible, what could have triggered it, and so on. Few considered Amy. That was the benefit of having people underestimate you: no one would suspect you of anything so brazen. Many of her enemies found that out too late and many more were starting to realize who was holding the cards. Already many of the other bosses not killed were sending messages that they were going to fall in line with the new pecking order. All that remained was tonight's endeavor.
Dressed in a one-piece black leotard, Amy breathed in and out slowly. Taking one last breath, she opened her eyes and stood up. Sensing her aide-de-camp, she said, "You can come in now."
Sean entered and said, "We're all set to leave for Hart Island. We've got a small contingent of vampires and demons ready to rebuff a Slayer attack. Do you really think they'll try?"
"They're Slayers," Amy replied. "It's in their nature. They'll make such a valiant attempt it'll be one for the history books. But they'll fail."
"But they have to know that," Sean said. "They've lost their leaders."
"That's not the point, Sean," Amy rebuffed. "They might win, they might lose. The point is that they tried to stop me with every last ounce of energy in their bodies. In a way, it's kind of noble, in a pointless and futile sort of way. I can respect that and I will... right before I spread their entrails across New York." She chuckled to herself. "Come now, Sean. We've got a crisis to start."
Friday, 9:01 pm - Slayer Safehouse
The group ran one final check over their inventory and their plan. Each knew what to do and each was prepared for anything, including a retreat. As Stacy ran over her weaponry one last time, Illyria walked up to her and stared at her. Stacy was a bit unnerved for a moment, but then Illyria spoke.
"You have everything?" she said.
"Yeah, I ran over my equipment one last time. I got everything."
"Good," Illyria replied. Taking a moment to look at her charge, she then said, "You are strong and well-trained. I fully expect you to survive this night. Do not disappoint me." As soon as Illyria turned and left Giles approached Stacy.
"I think that's the closest thing to a compliment she's ever given me," Stacy said, flabbergasted.
"It almost sounded... concerned," Giles replied.
"And tonight's the night she decided to go weird on me. Great."
He chuckled at that. "Let's move out."
The group loaded up into the new vans sped off toward the harbor. Each of the girls in the vans shook a little at the thought of going to meet their destiny, whichever way it went. They approached the harbor and began loading onto the boats. A favor from some contacts they had made over the past year had given them cover to take boats out to Hart Island, so the NYPD Harbor Unit wouldn't be a problem for at least a small window of time. They sped toward the island, around to the south side so no one would see their approach. Unloading quickly and anchoring the boats, they grabbed their weapons and sped toward the destination quickly and stealthily. Reaching a dense, overgrown shrubbery they found the location specified on the map they carried, but saw no one there.
"I don't get it," Monica said. "Where's Amy?"
As soon as she asked a bright flash of light appeared and a group of about forty to fifty appeared. One person was hovering thirty feet above the rest. The group knew immediately who it was.
Amy remained hovered over her small force, taking in the atmosphere and letting it wash over her. She closed her eyes as she felt the power emanating from the Demarais Point. Suddenly, a sensation washed over her. She opened her eyes and smiled.
The Slayers immediately ran out into formation and held their weapons at the ready, some having their crossbows trained on some of Amy's fighting force. Xander had a nifty and deadly axe at his disposal, while Giles brought out a pump-action shotgun. Nothing lethal to a vamp, he knew, but the stopping power would give them a little edge.
"I knew you'd show up," Amy said. "I have to hand it to you all: you sure know how to walk to your deaths with some dignity."
"We won't be dying tonight, Amy," Kennedy said. "Stand down."
"And with some humor, too. Come on, I outnumber you three to one. There's no way I'm surrendering. But I'll do you a favor: you stand down and I'll make sure you die quickly. It's the least I could do for such a brave group."
"You heard her," Stacy remarked. "Stand down or we'll turn that armor of yours into a tin can... with you in it."
Amy smirked. "The hot-head runs her mouth again." Turning toward the entrance of the building she called out to her group. "Boys, you know what to do."
And with but a gesture, the group rushed forward and the fight commenced.
Monica and Deirdre fired off their crossbows and hit two vamps squarely in the heart, dusting them on the spot. Ling, still recovering from her ordeal, also remained at a good distance and fired off an arrow, hitting another vamp. The rest of the group moved forward to engage in close combat with Amy's crew.
Amy approached the Demarais Point, located in an old, dilapidated wing of the decaying building. She felt the power even more so than when she was outside. It was bathing her in its presence. She grinned triumphantly and stuck out her right hand, a stream of red energy flowing from it. Reaching out her left she let loose another stream, causing the focal point to expand ever so slightly. She could almost taste the victory that was within her grasp. Pouring more energy into the point she smiled as the point's focus grew in intensity. All was well, when suddenly she felt a familiar wave of energy hit her. It couldn't be, she thought.
"No," she said, her face falling. "That's impossible."
"Ooh, probably shouldn't have said that," replied Buffy as she came out of the shadows, carrying her scythe. "You know when the bad guy says that, they tend to lose afterward."
"No," Amy replied, nonplussed. "How, how did...?"
"...we survive that explosion?" Willow interjected, an arming sword in hand.
"Come now, Amy," Sara remarked as she stepped out of the shadows, holding Itagaki's katana. "That would be telling."