Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own anything.

Author's Note: Ok, last chapter of waiting. Promise. The next chapter's already in the works and I can assure you that the action is all but here. I have to thank those of you who reviewed, because some of you have pointed out things I need to correct, and others are keeping me on track. Anyway, turn on some classic rock and enjoy!


It was dusty. There were cobwebs, rusting tools, and rotting fifty pound bags of... something. It was dark and dank with a stagnant smell to it. It didn't take me long to decide that the shack we were hiding in was bad for morale. 

Waiting for word in there was one of the more difficult things I'd done in a long time. If I stood up, turned around, and looked out the window over my head, I'd see the old factory that our enemies were in, and knowing that was fraying my nerves. Looking around, I could see the eye-whites of the others flashing in the darkness. This wasn't good. We couldn't afford to be this nervous going into something like this, and I had to admit that I was being part of the problem.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled my sword out and laid it across my lap, then I bowed my head and quietly asked my master to bless it. Feeling a finger of power brush me, I instantly felt a little more at ease. There was also something about my sword... it seemed to glimmer even though there still wasn't much light to be seen. 

Just then I heard a creek and a rustle. Turning to look at the door, I saw a shape slip in. There was a bit of whispering, then I saw the signal to circle up. Awkwardly keeping low as I came forward, I hushed my breathing and listened closely for the whispers.

"What did you see?" Romarion was asking.

A less experienced soldier, who, I'd learned, was named Almens, nodded. "There's probably twenty-five of them in there-"

"Probably?" Romarion demanded.

"They're moving around and everything's dark. I did my best to count them."

"Just keep going."

"It looks like most of them are grunts though, but I did see Lillith I think. There was a child in there with them anyway."

"That'll be her."

"Anyway, it looks like they're getting ready to start."

"Well then, let's stop them!" Ladir interjected. I'd served alongside him some time back, well, a long time by mortal standards. He'd always been one to rush in. 

"No, they'll be expecting that," I said.

"Noise discipline!" Romarion whispered, glaring around the circle. I had to admit, he was a good commander. The silence was almost tangible. "Now, this isn't a democracy. So you can hold onto your opinions until I ask for them. We'll stop them, our master's counting on us doing that, but we're not going to go barging in when they're waiting for us. If we wait until they've started, then most of the leaders will be involved in the magic too deeply to take part in the rest of the fighting."

"Won't that be cuttin' it a touch close?" That from a relative kid called Degen.

"The spell their going to have to put together is intricate, it'll take them a good twenty to thirty minutes to do it. If we hit hard and fast, then we should be able to break it up on time. Bister, you're with me, along with Ladir, Almens, and Ilanz. We'll take the main group on from the front. Try to keep them distracted. Castiel, you take Monible, Surava, Thusis, and Vals, and hit them from the back. If all goes well, you should have a clean shots at the heads of this snake. They won't keep on with the spell if it means getting a knife in the back. Any questions?"

I looked around, curious to see how would speak after his little democracy speech. I was half-surprised to find my own voice breaking the silence. "How long?" I asked.

Romairon glanced at the rolex on his vessel's arm. "Fifteen minutes."

It still seemed strange to me to actually be running things on time. Schedules were normal, yes, but we didn't exactly bother with clocks and wristwatches very often. 

"Still..." Romairon continued. "Almens, I want you to keep an eye on them, if it looks like their moving too slowly or too quickly, you let me know. Got it?"

"Sir!" Almens whispered with a nod. 

"Anything else?" He looked at our faces, and when nothing was forthcoming he took a breath. "Alright, sit easy for a while, but be ready to move. And for heaven's sake, remember noise discipline!"

Without a word, the cluster disbanded and I went back to my place under the window. Great, I was second in command. I could have done without that. Romairon's covering and flanking maneuver was simple, but it was sound and we didn't exactly have the time to come up with some genius, innovative strategy. Still, I had all the time in the world to come up with possible flaws. On the edge of a fight, fifteen minutes is an eternity. I just had to pray that it would work. 

For a moment, my mind went back to Dean. What sort of trouble had he gotten into now, and make no mistake, he'd be in some sort of trouble by now. Hopefully he's manage to keep himself alive until I could get back. Explaining to my superiors that I'd hauled Dean out of Hell, only to let him get killed the second I looked away. 

"Now!" came a whispered voice out of the darkness. 

I jerked my head toward the sound before I recognized the command. Then I slipped toward the door, making eye contact with my subordinates along the way, and listening to them falling in line behind me. Just as I started to walk out the door, the same voice appeared at my ear. 

"Wait until we've engaged them."

I nodded, though it was probably lost in the darkness. 

From the shadows of the shack, I raced across the clearing, not giving the faint moonlight a chance to betray me before I slipped into the shadow of the factory, just a few paces away from a door. Muffled footsteps and furtive figures let me know that my people were following me. 

I raised an open hand. They paused. I closed it into a fist, and they scattered, settling into the shadows. One. Two. Three. I couldn't keep myself from mentally counting out the seconds. Four. My ears strained for any idea of what was going on inside. Five. Six. I knew I had to time it perfectly. If I went in too early, they would turn to face us and the other team would be in a flanking position. Seven. Eight. Nine. Too late and they would be engaged in the fighting long enough to wonder if it was a diversion. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Was that something? Fourteen. Fifteen. Were they in trouble? Sixteen. Seventeen. Something went wrong. Eighteen. Nin-

There it was!

I gave a glance over my shoulder to the others, then gave the signal. Taking my own advice, I stepped forward, and held my blade in the ready position. I came to the door.

Then I kicked it down.