Chapter Twenty: Never Stand Next to Anyone Flinging Shit at an Armed Man...

"Some prices are just too high, no matter how much you may want the prize. The one thing you can't trade for your heart's desire is your heart." ― Miles Vorkosigan (from 'Memory')

Jack O'Toole straightened up from his slouch at the bar. "Well well. Looky here. Kid Harris has a badge." He lowered his hand to rest on the butt of his pistol, menacingly.

Xander brought the Winchester down from his shoulder and fired as it came level at his hip. "And a rifle," he said. O'Toole staggered back, his gun barely clear of his holster...

Xander worked the lever smoothly as Kyle drew and fired a shot that screamed wildly over his head, fired, worked the lever and fired again. He caught movement from the corner of his eye, and shifted his aim slightly, putting the next round into one of the second stringers just as Vince nailed him in the chest, almost simultaneously.

There was the flat crash of a shot from rear entry to the hotel bar as Cordelia stepped through. Rhonda Kelly staggered, her face going pale and shocked.

Rhonda turned, her pistol falling from her hand to clatter on floor. "Cordelia?"

Cordelia stepped forward once, and said, "No one shoots my boyfriend or my friends, Rhonda." She scowled, adding, "Even if I don't like them very much." Pulling the rear trigger on the drilling, she fired again and a slug struck Rhonda slightly high and off center in the chest...

Blood bubbled up out of Rhonda's mouth, and she dropped to her knees, then toppled over, face down. Cordelia broke open the action and reached for a replacement rifle cartridge.

Vince looked down at bodies of the other five. "Sometimes, straight up works." He blew out the muzzle of his rifle and worked the lever again, starting to load in cartridges through the gate.

There was a shout from the doorway behind them and Xander and Vince spun as Sheriff Munroe ran in, Stein behind him. Both skidded to a halt, looking around the barroom.

Munroe swore, and followed it with, "All right. You're all under arrest for murder."

Cordelia glared at him hotly. "What? It was self defense!"

The Hotel Bartender came up from behind the bar, nodding. "It was, Sheriff. Really."

Xander tapped his chest. "And we have badges."

Munroe glared at him, scowling. "I don't care if you have writs from God," he said, "You're with the Marshall and John Chance, you're in jail." He paused, and added, "Paul. Take their guns and arrest them."

Deputy Stein looked over the bodies on the floor and raised his eyebrows. "Bob? They just killed six armed men – people – in a two on one fight." Shaking his head, he added, "You arrest them," with a faint smile.

Sheriff Munroe glared at him. "That's treason, Deputy. I'll see you hung," he said.

Vince shook his head. "Hanged." Pausing a beat, he smiled. "He may already be hung, but I'll let you check."

Xander switched his rifle to his left hand and lowered his right to hang at his pistol butt. "Any time you feel twitchy, Sheriff Bob." He paused, raising an eyebrow as Munroe turned pale and moved his hand hastily away from his revolver butt... "Didn't think so."

Cordelia said, "Ahem" and Munroe turned to look at her and paled further as he saw her drilling aimed at his face. "I won't bother waiting for you to draw," she said, smiling sweetly.

Vince smiled. "Guess she told you."

There was movement and a voice from doorway behind Cordelia. Xander and Vince stepped apart to one side and half turned as Cordelia's drilling hit the floor with a clattering thump.

Richard Wilkins stood just past the doorway holding Cordelia with an arm around her throat and a derringer under her chin. "I don't think that'll be necessary, Bob," he said. Mr. Trick stood next to them, smirking at Vince and Xander.

Damn. Check to the gunslinger with the big rifle and the stupid look on his face. Xander swore internally.

In a quiet and deadly soft voice, Xander said, "Let. Her. Go." He drew the long barreled target revolver and aimed it at Wilkins.

Cordelia glared at him. "Shoot him, dammit!"

"Now now," Wilkins said, smiling brightly. "A foul mouth is unbecoming in a young woman, young lady." He put pressure on his arm and raised Cordelia onto her toes so she covered more of him. She gasped and her hands went to his arm.

Xander's eyes widened. "Don't."

Wilkins smiled. "Oh, I won't. Unless you make me. All that blood? So very unsanitary."

Xander decocked the revolver, but didn't lower it. "What do you want?"

Wilkins lowered Cordelia so she could breathe again. "Why, I want you to take a message back to your friend the Marshall for me: he's to let Blake Maitland go," he said, and nodded to Cordelia. "She's coming with me as a guarantee."

Vince raised an eyebrow. "And you let Cordelia go if Dude does as you tell him?"

"Maybe.," Wilkins said, "But, I definitely won't if he does not." He paused and sniffed at Cordelia's hair and she grimaced in distaste. "Hrmm. Not a virgin. Useless as a sacrifice for reactivating the Hellmouth. Still, she'd make a wonderful sacrifice to one or another of my patrons, if nothing else."

Xander looked at him. He was pretty sure he knew what Wilkins meant – and even more certain he didn't want to know the details... visions of the Frat Boys and their reptile god cult danced behind his eyes.

"Where to? And when?" Xander said, quietly. Cordelia's eyes widened, and she shook her head as vigorously as she could with Wilkins holding her.

"The Mission. Where else? As soon as Maitland walks in," he said, "She walks out." He let a beat pass, and smiled. "Maybe. And oh, in two days time. Just an hour past full sundown, let us say."

Xander looked him over, still holding the pistol aimed, thumb on hammer. "She doesn't, I walk in after her." He had never, ever wanted to shoot someone as badly as he did Wilkins right at this moment...

"Your option. Is it a deal?"

Xander lowered the pistol to hang at his side, and nodded. "Let him go. For now."

Vince, his voice slightly strained, said, "You sure?"

"You have a better idea? One that doesn't get Cordy killed?"

Vince sighed. "Nope."

"Well, this is exciting, isn't it? Clandestine meetings by dark of night, exchange of prisoners," Wilkins said, smiling broadly and cheerfully. "I just, I... I feel like we should all be wearing black hats and white hats or something." He began backing through the door with Cordelia –

– Xander cleared his throat. "Oh. Mayor Wilkins," he said, quietly. Wilkins paused, raising his eyebrows. "Something you should understand here first, before you go."

Wilkins said, still smiling, "I'm listening."

Xander smiled back, pleasantly. "Understand this: if anything happens to Cordelia, she comes to any harm... your fault, my fault, nobody's fault, accident, on purpose, it doesn't matter. She has a heart attack from stress or even just gets a hangnail, then, I'm going to find you, and I'm going to kill you. No matter what happens, no matter who gets in my way, no matter who else gets killed or dies, or how many guns I have to go through – I will reach you and I will blow your head off."

Wilkins, still smiling, nodded and said, "Well, golly. I must say I will certainly remember that, young man."

Trick casually edged his hand toward his holster... "Well, can't happen if – "

There was very loud report as Vince's .50-95 went off from the hip and Trick's handgun jumped wildly in the holster, just under his hand. The second shot smashed the pearl grips. "Try and jerk that pistol again, and Harris won't have to kill you."

Wilkins blinked. "My, how very uncouth." He looked at Xander. "I must ask... Would that count as someone doing something that might cause Miss Chase harm?"

Xander shrugged. "I trust Vin's aim. And his judgment."

"I see. Ah... Friendship is such a wonderful thing," Wilkins said, cheerfully. "I'll have to remember to stamp it out when I've achieved my goals."

Xander locked his eyes with Cordelia's. "Don't worry. I'm coming after you."

Cordelia's eyes widened, "That's what worries me, Goof," she said.

Wilkins and Trick backed carefully out through the door with Cordelia. Everyone watched them go, tense and uncomfortable, and Stein arched his eyebrows and shot his boss a pointed look.

Sheriff Munroe grimaced and shoved his way past Stein with a glare, and pushed out through the front doors.

Deputy Stein took off his badge and looked at it, then shrugged and tossed it onto one of the bodies. "Sigh. I suppose I'm fired."

Vince, shrugged and looked at him. "That's ok. This ship can always use another loose cannon."

Outside the hotel, and through the back door, they acquired a pair of Wilkins remaining gunsels. Cordelia glanced over at the body of the young, black porter sprawled a short distance away, and swallowed heavily. Stopping in the alley, Wilkins tightened his grip around Cordelia's throat, one hand gripping her arm, while Trick relieved her of her pistols, handbag, and Bowie knife. Trick seemed to spend an inordinate time on her legs, and when he brushed a hand over her breasts, smirking, Wilkins frowned.

Wilkins snapped out as Cordelia glared and shuddered, "There will be none of that now, Mr. Trick. I was not in the least bit unhappy that Miss Cordelia here killed that overly lascivious Corby fellow."

Trick shrugged. "By your command." He flicked at the badge on Cordelia's vest. "My my," he said, "How Marshall Dude's standards have fallen."

Cordelia smiled slightly. "Oh, I don't know. Rhonda Kelly didn't seem to find me lacking any." (beat) "Neither did Bill Corby." Wilkins laughed, nodding, his grip not slackening the least bit...

"No, they did not, at that," he said, pleasantly.

They resumed moving through the alley toward the square and City Hall, the pair of guns leading the way with one bringing up the rear.

Trick rummaged through Cordelia's bag and pulled out her stake. "And my oh my. The intrepid young vampire hunter."

Cordelia smiled crookedly, and said, "Self defense. Because Mace and handguns are so last decade."

Wilkins grinned appreciatively. "Hah! Not scared a bit, are you?" Cordelia shrugged, saying nothing.

Once at their destination, they slipped inside City Hall past the guards, though a back way.

Wilkins glanced at her curiously. "You didn't seem anxious to have young Sir Gawain come to your rescue. Why is that, I wonder?"

Cordelia set her mouth in a thin line and looked mulish, shaking her head.

Trick sighed. "I would answer the man. If not, I'm very good at extracting things from the reluctant." He paused, smiling slightly, "Painfully good."

Cordelia glared at him, then shrugged. "I'm not, not really," she said, sighing.

Wilkins nodded, looking thoughtful. "Oh? Why not? One would think that a young woman in your predicament would welcome rescue from her young Knight Errant."

Cordelia smiled at him. Not a very nice smile. "You don't really know Xander Harris very well, do you? Or at all," she said. "If you did, you'd let me go right now. Unharmed."

Trick smirked at her. "Why don't you enlighten us, pray tell?"

Cordelia shrugged. "Hurt Xander, or threaten him, and he'll probably back off, or step aside if he can. Hurt bystanders or his friends? He'll deal with it, but it won't get... personal. But you hurt or threaten the people he loves? Especially someone like me?" she said, shrugging again. Pausing, she added, "He meant what he said. He'll come after, and he won't care who or what or how many get in his way. He'll go through them on his way to me, and the gods help anyone idiotic enough to try and stop him."

Wilkins smiled again, looking impressed. "My word," he said, "And how thoughtfully solicitous of you to be concerned for us."

Cordelia laughed, cutting off abruptly as it began to sound slightly hysterical. "Oh, I so don't give a crap about either of you," she said. "You're both dead – you just haven't fallen over or burst into dust yet. I just don't care for what doing it will do to Xander." She frowned. "What was it he said? Oh yeah – just a cold, empty machine, that eats, walks, talks, and kills people. Believe me: you don't want to see that. I don't want to see that, not again."

Trick laughed, arrogant disbelief stamped in every nuance of his tone and expression.

Wilkins smiled. "And you're not scared a bit for yourself, are you? You should be, you know."

Cordelia swallowed hard. "Oh, I'm scared, believe me."

Trick nodded. "She is. I can smell it all over her," he said. "But, hey, she's spunky. I like that – it always does such wonderful things for the flavor."

The basement of City Hall gave way to a tunnel entrance, lit with gas lights, leading apparently across the square to the Courthouse/County Jail.

Wilkins shook his head, saying, "Well, just remember that I have a use for her. Several, actually. I don't care if the taste is like Sarsaparilla and cotton candy for you. You had your snack on that young porter." The two gunmen swallowed hard, shooting nervous glances at Trick.

Trick shrugged. "Do you have a use for young Harris as well? Because, he can't very well storm through everything in his way if he's not around. You really should take care to make that happen."

Wilkins smiled genially, and said, "You know, I never have cared much for it when people working for me temper their advice with words like 'you should' and 'you must'." He placed his hand on Trick's shoulder, and Trick grimaced with distaste and not a little fear. "I'd really be careful about doing that again, in the future."

Cordelia watched the exchange with interest. Trick, noticing that, glared at her.

Wilkins frowned slightly, and said, "You are not indispensable, Mr. Trick. Remember your place here."

Trick said carefully, not looking at him. "My master wouldn't like it very much if you were to... dispense with me in any permanent fashion."

Wilkins replied, cheerfully, "My patrons wouldn't care at all. And the Greek can always find another useful lackey."

Cordelia smirked, and said, "You seem to be running a bit low on them, however."

Wilkins smiled tolerantly. "More where they came from. Ah – Sheriff Munroe. Be a good man and personally escort Miss Chase to a secure location for safekeeping and place her with the other one. She's... an extremely valuable property right now."

Cordelia snorted indelicately. When Wilkins looked at her curiously, she said, "Bob Munroe? He so wouldn't know how to be a good man with detailed instructions and a manual by Emily Post."

Trick laughed out loud. "Like I said, she's got spunk. I really like her."

Munroe flushed and said, "Now look, you." He jabbed his index finger at Cordelia's face.

Cordelia smiled brightly at him. "I'm so not surprised by Trick. But you? I'm amazed that Wilkins finds you useful. Still... " Munroe turned a darker red with each word... "I guess even big monsters need the mindless and spineless ones to do their dirty work."

Wilkins scowled and said, sharply, "Bob!"

Munroe halted with his hand raised to strike Cordelia, turning to face him. "Unharmed, please," Wilkins said, pleasantly.

Munroe scowled, and Wilkins smiled gently, adding, "I've been informed in no uncertain terms that she's extremely important to my longevity. So... not a scratch, not a bruise, not a hair disarrayed on her pretty head, if you please." Wilkins looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. "Else I'll simply have to appoint Miss Sheridan as your replacement by fiat, once Mr. Trick has had his fill of you."

Munroe glanced sharply at the smirking Trick, and lowered his hand, glowering. "Harris? And that Garret character?"

Trick smiled, "Oh, they yet live."

Munroe shook his head. "You really should kill both of them, Wilkins," he said.

"Mayor Wilkins, if you please, Bob," Wilkins said, "Or Mr. Wilkins."

Cordelia smiled at Munroe. "Gee, Bob. He and Mr. Trick already had that discussion. I doubt you have even Trick's small immunity."

Trick nodded, smiling. "But, do feel free to kill them yourself, Bob. If you can."

Munroe, with the red draining from his face, grabbed Cordelia by the upper arm and jerked her toward himself. "Come on, you."

Cordelia looked over and raised an eyebrow to Wilkins. "Oh, please," she said. She raised her knee, suddenly, sharply, and hard. Munroe gasped and folded over. Cordelia put her hand on his forehead and shoved as he let go abruptly, sending him flailing back to fall on his butt. She smiled and stepped forward to offer her arm to the younger deputy.

Wilkins laughed, shaking his head with an admiring expression. "My oh my. What a firecracker."

The Deputy took Cordelia's upper arm reflexively, and then gaped at her. "Wait," he said, "You have a badge?"

Cordelia smiled sweetly, nodding. "Deputy Marshall Chase. And I believe that Dude takes a dim view of people harming his Deputies, also."

Wilkins chuckled "Wonderful. Truly wonderful. I'll have some dinner and homemade root beer sent down to you and your fellow prisoner."

Cordelia looked back, nodding. "Just make sure that Mister Trick takes good care of my revolvers, Bowie knife, and stake." She smiled. "I'm going to want them back."

Wilkins said, still chuckling, "I'll place them in my desk for safekeeping. Believe me – no harm will come, to them."

Deathly still outside the back door of the hotel, almost literally. Except for the buzzing of flies... Xander spotted the body of the porter and went over to kneel beside him. He set Cordelia's drilling aside and laid his '86 across his lap as the hotel manager gasped behind them. Reaching out, he turned the porter's head to one side to examine the neck, and sighed. He gently closed the man's eyes, and stood, picking up the drilling and his rifle as he rose, adjusting Jack's fancy rig where it hung from his shoulder. "Damn. Vaya con dios. And may Hades take you and keep you."

"Dead?" Vince asked.

"Yup. Trick."

"My word," Mr. Haversham said. "What kind of man is he, anyway?"

"Vampire, actually," Xander said.

"You're joking, surely," the hotel manager said, staring at him with a shocked and incredulous expression.

"Not a bit."

Vince threw a sharp look at Xander. "Ok. I have an inkling, but I gotta ask," he said, "Why didn't you shoot? Happen to know you could have hit Wilkins through either eye over or past Cordelia's head."

Xander shrugged. "Same applies. Why didn't you?"

"Asked you first."

Xander gave him a sour look. "You left off the neener neener." He shrugged. "Trick. Bullet won't necessarily stop him, and he could break Cordy's neck before either of us could react."

Vince nodded. "Fair enough." He paused, looking thoughtful, and said, "What would one of these through the brainpan do?" He hefted the .50-95.

"Huh. I knew of one like him that got a pipe organ dropped on him and was supposedly in a wheelchair for months," Xander said, thoughtfully. "So I imagine they regrow nerve tissue a bit more slowly. Probably put him down long enough to finish him. Even so," he said, "No guarantee Wilkins couldn't have broken Cordelia's neck himself. Or that he wouldn't twitch when I shot him and put a derringer slug through her head."

Vince nodded. "Not arguing. Not worth the risk."

Stein, also frowning, straightened up from examining the body's throat wounds himself. He swallowed hard, slightly pale. "What is he exactly? And the thankfully missing Gorch brothers?"

Vince looked at Xander, who shrugged. "Ever read a book by a Brit fella named Stoker?"

Stein paled a bit farther. "Oh, you must certainly be joking."

"Didn't we just go through this?" Xander said, and sighed. "I never joke about monsters. Not in a context like this one. Accept it and deal. Move on."

Stein paled even farther, and swallowed hard once more. "And you killed the Gorch brothers, as you implied to Mr. Trick and the Mayor?"

Xander nodded. "One of them. Someone else got the other."

Stein asked, curiously, "Who? Miss Cordelia?"

"You didn't pay to see that card," Xander said, "My turn: where will he take her? Straight to the Mission?"

Stein shook his head. "City Hall. It is built like a fortress." He paused, and said, "And there are areas of the subbasement there that are off limits to anyone except the Mayor and his 'special assistants'. I believe there may be a tunnel or tunnels that lead to under the County Jail and the Mission."

Xander said, frowning. "Ok. You and Ex-Deputy Stein take Wilkins' message back to Dude and Chance."

Vince gave him a raised eyebrow, and said, "What about you?"

Xander shrugged. "Got something to take care of."

"Don't want company?"

"Naw," Xander said. "Someone's got to make sure Stein doesn't get shot at the door."

"True, that." Vince nodded. "See you."

Xander rapped on the door of the house with the muzzles of Cordelia's drilling again – not too hard; he didn't care to damage them.

It had taken him a trip to the Paradise to ask a few questions, and inform Glenn and Kevin of recent events while he was there of occurrences, before he'd gotten the address. And then another trip out of the town center to the houses on the outskirts of town to get there.

He didn't bother to stick to the alleyways and sneak. Wasn't in the mood.

The few of Munroe's deputies who saw him on the main street, and the few of Maitland and Stillwell's gunsels that saw him pass by the Double Eagle before he went around to approach the Paradise from the back, just watched him. And didn't attempt to interfere.

There were footsteps hurrying across the floor, and a gruff, cultured voice said, "Yes? Who is it?"

"Giles? Deputy Marshall Harris, and I need a word with you."

There was a sigh, and then Giles was opening the door to his house. "Do you realize what time it is?'

Xander nodded. "Later than you think." He pushed through doorway past Giles, a weapon in either hand. "Normally, I wouldn't do it this way, but I'm in a hurry. As you can see, not a vampire."

Giles said, removing his glasses. "Now see here. Exactly what kind of hurry justifies your barging into my home at this time of night? And just what did you mean by that comment?"

Xander turned, staring him in the eye. "You're a Watcher."

Giles said, spluttering and suddenly taken aback, "I-I'm a school teacher, young man! E-ex-exactly what are you accusing me of?"

Xander made a dismissive gesture. "Yeah. Cover," he said, "You're a Watcher. Of the Watcher's Council of Great Britain."

Giles shook his head, still spluttering, and now turning red. "Now see here, young fellow," he said, blustering. "I r-really have n-no idea what you're tal– "

"Yeah yeah. Save it. You stutter when you're embarrassed or lying, Giles," Xander said. "And you polish your glasses when you're stalling, or embarrassed, or uncertain about something. And – you're a freaking Watcher."

Giles looked down at the glasses he'd been polishing with the hem of his shirt, and reddened. He put them back on. "I-I well, really... "

Xander glared at him. "I don't have time for this, Giles. They have my Cordelia. And Wilkins said something about a sacrifice to activate the Hellmouth."

Giles stared at him. "I-I... I see." He paused, and said, "Perhaps you'd better explain just what exactly is happening. And just how you know about Watchers and the Watcher's Council."

Xander shook his head and said, "No time for that last. Later." He paused. "Take it you know about the Hellmouth? And something of Wilkins?"

Giles walked to the flat top stove and put on a pot of water. "Tea?" He paused, looking thoughtful. "Not precisely. The Council has suspected there may be a-a... mystical hotspot of some kind in this area, since we have lost three Slayers here within the past few decades." He paused again, removing his glasses. "You, uh... "

Xander nodded. "I know about the Slayer. Never mind how, for now."

Giles nodded back. "I see. We will come back to that." He paused and drew in a deep breath. "All right. And, yes. We know that Richard Wilkins is a black arts Sorcerer of some sort, yes."

Xander accepted a cup of tea, setting the drilling and the Winchester to one side, followed by Jack's rig and pistols. "Uh huh. He plans to make himself Mayor and activate the Hellmouth under the Mission for some reason. And I think he intends to use Cordelia and possibly Ianara Gutierrez to do it, somehow... "

Giles took a sip from his own tea and motioned to some chairs. "I see. You had best fill me in on what's happened, and explain this all to me, very carefully... First off, who are you, precisely, and exactly how is it that you know me?"

.