Early the next morning before the sun even began to rise; the rebel encampment was filled with activity. Those who were taking part in the raid dressed in the form-fitting, stretchy black material for stealth and ease of movement. Those who were to stay behind assisted with preparations, ready to create the portals for the strike teams so that the fighters could conserve their energy for the battle to come. All around the camp lovers and spouses embraced and kissed. Babies and children were lifted and cuddled as one or both of their parents got ready to join the ranks of the fighters. One such parent was Eric Slingby, and he stared down at his little son as he cradled him.

"I promise both of yeh I'll do my best tae make it back," whispered the Scotsman. He bent his head to kiss Matthew's soft, downy hair. "Yer both mah whole world." He turned and bent over a little to kiss Alan on the lips, who was standing beside him.

Matthew gave a high squeal, reaching his tiny hands up and grabbing onto the short hairs of his father's beard. He grinned and kicked his legs, simply happy to have a full tummy, a fresh nappy, and the sight of his father above him. His tongue poked out and he started to blow bubbles on his lip.

"Bubbles. Bubbles definitely mean he wants his daddy to return safe." Alan smiled, rubbing the boy's soft arm with the back of his fingers, "and I agree. Making it back safe is better than making it back, barely. Be careful, Eric. I'll be here on communications, helping as much as I can."

Eric sighed softly, loathe to leave his family but determined to do his part in making the world a better place for all of them. He relinquished the baby to his spouse and he kissed Alan once more. Reaching into the pocket of his black leather jacket, he withdrew the black beanie he'd stuffed in there. Fitting it over his head, he tucked his hair into it so as to make him more difficult to spot. He smiled for his spouse and then he looked over to the portals being formed, where the other participants of the strike force were lining up to go through.

"Guess I'd better get goin', sweetheart." He stepped back from Alan and he shot one of his infamous, cocky winks his way, smiling more brightly as he stepped in line with the reapers on Lawrence Anderson's team. Taking his place behind Will and Ron, he called out to Alan. "Mind tha fort for us, lover. We'll celebrate tonight. Ye'll see."

"Just be careful!" Alan called back, cradling their son in his arms, comfortably.

Ronald whistled, shaking his head, "Man, I don't think I could stand being in Al's place right now...or yours." When Eric looked at him he gave a smile. "I'd rather Will be beside me either way. Fighting or no."

"I would to," agreed Eric softly, "but we've go' our son tae think of an' there's also tha defense of tha camp. Alan might be a gentle soul, but he's good wi' his scythe an' there needs tae be a few bodies here capable o' defending tha camp—especially tha children."

William nodded and lowered his gaze. "I feel the two of you have made the wisest decision. Humphries has a good head on his shoulders and as you have observed; he is a good fighter. I feel confident in leaving him as one of the reapers in charge of evacuation and defense, should the enemy strike this camp."

Ronald sighed. "I guess, but still, I wouldn't be able to do it. I want to be able to Watch Will's back. This is really dangerous, you know? Even with Undertaker's Doll's on our side." His hand wandered to Will's, giving his gloved hand a squeeze. "If anything bad were to happen that I could have prevented..."

"Now, now," admonished Lawrence when he overheard part of the conversation, "let's not jinx this, lad. If you go in thinking that way you'll find it hard to concentrate on what's happening around you."

Fabian—who was standing in the other line with the Undertaker's team—spoke up as well. "Focus on the mission and not what could happen. You are one of the top marksmen and we cannot have you distracted by..."

The tall blond Dane trailed off, his gaze focusing on something else. Eric turned to follow the direction of his stare and he smirked when he saw Alexander Jeffries approaching. The hacker's shoulder-length auburn hair was unbound but he wore a jaxon hat on his head. He strode toward Agent Olson with purpose in his eyes and everyone watched curiously, thinking he was about to argue about the decision that he remain behind in camp. Instead, Alex stopped before Fabian, reached up to cup the back of his head and pull him down for a kiss—a deep one.

Eric whistled softly and looked away, while Will busied himself making a show of checking his watch. Finally, the Undertaker spoke up when Fabian's line started moving and the Dane was still standing there lip-locked with Alex.

"Get a move-on, Viking," chastised the Undertaker. "You're holding up the line and you had plenty of time to suck face last night."

Fabian broke the kiss with obvious reluctance. His round-framed glasses were crooked on his face and he nudged them straight. A crooked smile adorned his lips as he regarded the blushing Englishman that had so fervently kissed him. "Your timing is terrible, Alex."

"I know," agreed Jeffries a little breathlessly. "I just...couldn't let you go without doing that. Be careful...all of you." He even included Ronald in that statement, nodding at him in acknowledgement despite the way they'd clashed in the past.

Ron nodded at him in acknowledgement. "I guess that answers that..." he muttered, moving up when the line moved.

Grell hurried out of a nearby tent, hardly recognizable in the form-fitting black, his red hair all tucked up under his hat, and his glasses chain removed. If he was upset over the lack of his favorite color, he hid it well as he rushed over to Undertaker's side. "Tech team said that they are ready when we are."

The mortician gave a nod, and he took a moment to grin in pleasure over the sight of his lover. "I've got to say you wear that well, darlin'." He dropped his hand down to give Grell a little pinch on the bottom, and then he motioned for his group to start moving. In an orderly fashion, they began to step through the portal, with the Undertaker encouraging them on.

Ronald drew in a nervous breath. "Time to party." he said, turning to face the portal he, William, and Eric would be taking.

"Let's get this show on the road." Grell giggled his agreement, "And kick some ass."

They arrived in the sewers of reaper London, and the Undertaker guided them by memory to the hidden chambers where he'd stored his armies. "Good gods, the stench," uttered Lawrence, putting a handkerchief over his nose and mouth.

"Don't be a nancy on me now," cautioned the mortician with a grin. He held up his scythe and it began to glow. "Easy, now. We let them go in first, so everyone just get out of the way."

William pressed back against Ronald as the rows of stone sarcophagus began to open with a grinding sound. "I'm uncomfortable with this," he announced to his lover softly, though the plan was set and there was nothing for it now.

"I know." Ronald comforted him, slipping his arms around him so he was hugging him from behind, "but we really do need this army. They won't be a problem for us. Just the enemy. Plus, I'm sure Undertaker will clean these things up after everything is done and the dust settles."

"Unnie will," Grell stated. "He knows that even I don't approve of these things."

"Be of good cheer, mates," encouraged the Undertaker with a grin as his undead minions began to emerge from their coffins. "They aren't going to be expecting this and even if they are, they won't be entirely prepared for it."

He began to weave the energy to create the portal that would take the army of undead straight into Dispatch. The plan was to allow the dolls to go in first, and then follow behind with the strike teams. "Bit of help here?"

Lawrence pushed aside his distaste and he joined his fellow ancient, adding his energy to the Undertaker's so that it wasn't all on him. Fabian also assisted and once the portal was stable, the Undertaker left them to it and he went to the other chambers to awaken more of his creations. More than two-hundred bizarre dolls marched through the portals by the time the mortician finished, and the reapers waited until the last troop passed through before following behind them.

Alexander sighed, still standing near the site of the portals. They'd faded by now, having been held open only long enough for the strike teams to make it through. "Why'd I wait so long?" he mused to himself.

It had been torture to listen to all the sounds of passion in camp, coming from couples making the best of what time they had left with each other. Fabian had been pursuing him for months, but the Dane had an odd way of courting. He knew Alex had social anxiety and he told him plainly that he would not be the one to initiate the first kiss, leaving it up to him to decide when and if it was going to happen. What made Alex hesitate was the other man's warning that when he did kiss him, he should expect to be bedded soon afterwards.

"That's why I waited so long," muttered the hacker, unaware that Alan was within hearing distance of his conversation with himself. "I was scared. He'd be my first and...damn it, I'm such a girl!"

"You are not a girl," Alan said gently, walking over with Matthew in his arms, "and there is no shame in being scared. No shame in waiting until you are ready. I know that right now things feel anxious for you; it does for all of us. But you can't lose faith in him now. Despite the risk our warriors are taking today, Fabian has every reason in the world to return safe. You gave him that. And you can help protect him from here. You have helped our group form a strong communications center so we can help our warriors on the field, and your hacking skills will help us prepare them for any surprises. He'll return and you can pick up where you left off. Trust me," he winked, "You aren't the only one with bad timing."

Matthew cooed then, as if bringing attention to himself; the most solid proof that Eric and Alan's timing hadn't been the greatest, either.

Alan smiled at his son, "But even bad timing can bring the best results."

Alex looked at the baby and he managed a smile. "He sure is cute. Could I...maybe...hold him? I've wanted to ask before, but I was too nervous to."

"Of course. Alan encouraged, slipping Matthew into Alex's arms. "Make sure you support his head, but hold him firmly so he doesn't get nervous. He's not as breakable as some people think."

Matthew grinned around his fingers which he had in his mouth. Alex held him as instructed and he made a silly face at the baby. When he got a favorable reaction rather than a frightened one, he did it again. He chuckled when Matthew made one of those high-pitched noises of delight that babies made when amused. "I don't know much about kids. Never really thought of having any myself. It'll tell ya though; they're easier to get along with than adults...at least the little ones like this are."

Alex looked at Alan. "Maybe it's not such a scary idea after all. So I guess you guys are planning on having more later?"

"Eric wants a large family," Alan nodded, "and now that I'm no longer dying, I'm not against the idea of having one or two more after Matthew is a little older and less dependant on us for everything. Maybe when he's three we'll work on giving him a little brother or sister to play with."

"Sounds like a smart plan to me." Alex handed the baby back to him carefully. "I dunno if there's even a future in the cards for Fabian and me, but if there is I imagine he'd want a kid one day. The pregnancy part makes me uneasy though, and I'm pretty sure I'd...um...be the one to...you know."

He blushed and looked away. Some male reapers couldn't carry at all, so he might be worrying over nothing, but he was pretty damned sure he'd be the one taking it up the bum if and when he and Fabian had sex. "Is it weird? I mean being pregnant."

"It is." Alan nodded, "It's also uncomfortable and restricting, but...wonderful and amazing." The brunet tugged Matthew's bootie back on his foot as it had started falling off, "But if and when it comes time for you and Fabian to have children, talk to him about it. He may be willing to carry if you have problems coming to terms with the idea of being the one. Communication is key and I know it's kind of ironic coming from me as I kept it secret from Eric for so long..."

He smiled, "You're a good kid, and you have plenty of time to adjust to being in a relationship. Just use protection until you are ready for the idea of children."

"Oh, I plan to," assured Jeffries. "In fact I'm not doing it 'till we get access to some condoms or some of those contraceptive pills. You handled your little 'oopsie' a lot better than I would have, for sure."

He sighed and he checked his watch. "The attack will be starting soon. I'd better get on the computer and start monitoring enemy Dispatch's frequency. You're welcome to come with but it can be pretty boring." Alex smiled. "Of course, now it might get a whole lot more interesting. I'll bet they're going to shit themselves when they see the kind of army that's about to storm the gates."

In this matter, Alex was to report enemy orders to the leaders of the strike team so that they would know their every move. He would be listening and typing at the same time, taking down everything he heard. He'd also be monitoring the text communication and alerting the teams to any incoming reinforcements.

"Of course I would like to. Daddy's out there, right, Matthew?" he cooed down at his son, who smiled and babbled up at him. "If I can be of any help, don't hesitate to ask. I'm not an expert like you, but I do know a fair amount about computers."

"I could use all the help I can get," sighed Alex. "The worst part about my job in this camp is finding someone to keep an eye on things when I've got to pee."

They walked to the community pavilion tent together and Alex took his place on one of the bean bags next to his computer. He set the device on his lap and he powered it up. "Well, you know how the operating systems worked in the office? Mine's basically the same thing, but with a few extra features. Pull up a cushion and I'll show you some of the basics. I'll be doing most of it of course, but it sure would be nice to take a break now and then. I mean my helpers are fine for the simple stuff but this is all too involved for most of 'em, and the one I would have trusted with it is with the strike teams."

Alan nodded knowingly and set up a place for him to sit comfortably next to Alex, also making up a safe, comfortable place for him to lay Matthew down if he needed to. "I'll just need to take breaks, myself, to feed and Change Matthew."

"That sounds fair to me," agreed Alex. He pulled up the program he was using to monitor enemy Dispatch's communications, followed by another one that would allow him to keep in touch with the strike teams. He put on his headphones and he plugged the jack in before adjusting the sound and the attached microphone. "All right, now this window here is the media window for the bad guys' verbal communication. We've got to keep it turned on at all times. This other one is for our guys and it stays muted—but if you look at the little box under the sound bar you can read everything they say over the secure frequency in text. If there's anything to report to them we just type it in and an automated voice speaks for us on their end."

Alex pulled up yet another window and he moved it beneath the first one using the touchpad on his laptop. "Finally, there's this little guy. Most of the time it's just boring stuff about reaping reports but sometimes they send out silent orders. That's how I first found out they were closing in on us in Denmark. Is any of this too confusing to you, or do you think you could handle it for a few minutes if I need to get up and go pee or get a drink?"

"I think I have it." Alan nodded, looking at the screen. It was a good thing reapers could read quickly with their eyes—a side-effect that came from watching records—otherwise he'd be afraid he'd miss something in one of the text boxes.

He pushed his glasses further up his nose, "Yes, I'm sure I can handle this until you get back."

Alex nodded in satisfaction. "Cool, then let's get this non-party started. It's going to be a long day." His brows shot up when he heard the first alarmed broadcast coming through from the enemy frequency. Someone was shouting that an army of undead creatures had come into the lobby through the front door, and they kept moving even when hacked apart. "Uh, maybe it won't be such a long day after all."

"Now for the other portals," Lawrence said once the army of dolls was through the ones they'd made for them. The idea wasn't to go in with the bizarre dolls, but to use them as a diversion and keep the enemy too busy dealing with them to fight off the rebel Shinigami. If they could take control room in the Records department and hold it, they could bring Alex in to hack the mainframe so that they could send out a broadcast exposing them. Anderson began the process since the Undertaker had made the last one, and it was a draining task to repeat, even with assistance from other reapers. Their stealth portals required greater concentration and effort than ordinary ones.

William soon joined Lawrence's efforts, casting a brief glance Ronald's way as the portal formed. Fabian began creation of the other and Eric helped with that. Once both portals were formed, Undertaker tugged his hat down lower and he readied his scythe with a fiendish grin. "Strike team one, let's carve a smile in some faces."

They rushed through, coming out the other side in the Dispatch department. Undertaker was first through the portal and Grell was close at his heels. They had the element of surprise and what few enemy reapers left in this department were swiftly overwhelmed by the Undertaker's team. There was little room for mercy or negotiation, but each team had been instructed to give quarter to any enemy agents that surrendered and take them prisoner instead. After all, not everyone with enemy Dispatch was a founding contributor to the Revivalist movement. Some were victims of circumstance like Grell and Eric had been, and they served only because they had no other choice.

Undertaker cut down those that resisted like wheat, impaling two against the wall with his sotoba while lopping off the head of a third. Cinematic records flowed freely and seeing as they had no time to gather them right away, the team had to avoid the reels for now and focus on taking down all opposition first. Fabian took a shot in the arm from one of the enemy bullets, but the Dane shrugged it off and fired back at the culprit, taking him down with two shots. He cut down another with his axe-scythe while the Undertaker and Grell cleared a bloody path, their team-mates following their lead. Undertaker took particular delight in cleaving the imposter wearing Lawrence's face in two.

"That's for my mate, you impersonating blighter!"

When the entire floor was cleared out and all enemy reapers were either dead or taken prisoner, the Undertaker turned on his communication device, already set to the secured channel they were using. Rather than communicate directly with the other team, the broadcast went straight to Jeffries' computer. It was the best way to ensure that the enemy couldn't tune in and hear any of it.

"Team 'Mortuary' here. We've cleared the Dispatch department floor and surprise, surprise—amongst the casualties was the bloke wearing Anderson's face." He kicked the corpse for good measure. "Looks like he won't be stealing anyone else's identity again. We'll clean up, lock up the four prisoners we took somewhere they can't easily be found if any of their fellows come looking, and then start making our way down."

The artificial voice Alexander had programmed for the channel replied after a couple of moments. "I'll convey that to the other team. Great work! Be careful, because enemy Dispatch knows you're in that department now and they're sending up more agents to try and stop you. Can't send too many though, 'cause they've got their hands full with the dolls and Anderson's team. Copy?"

"Yeah, I copy." To the Undertaker it felt weird to use such jargon, but it was the standard way to let allies know that messages were received. He looked at his team, who were just finishing up with collecting the records they'd spilled. "We're due for a bit of company, ladies and gents. Hurry it up so we don't get caught with our britches down when they get here."

Meanwhile, Anderson's team had made it into the sub-department of records, on the same floor as the Research department. Lawrence and Eric made it to the control room and took out the guards there, and then they shut, locked and barricaded the doors while their team fought to clear floor of enemies. William and Ronald got separated from the rest of the team and they found themselves forced to duck into a room for cover to avoid whizzing bullets.

"Damn it," cursed William. He used a mirror with an extendable handle to look around the corner. It shattered before he could get more than a glimpse of the numbers they faced, taken out by enemy gunfire. He slammed the door closed and he locked it. They had recognized him as the former head of the department. He'd heard one of them yell it and he knew that they were going to push to take him down or take him prisoner.

"We've only moments at best before they break this door down," he informed Ronald as he dug out his communications device. "There are too many of them for us to handle alone, so our only chance to avoid death or capture is for the rest of our team to turn back for us, or to teleport out of here."

He conveyed their location and situation to Alex, and the hacker immediately reported it back to Anderson. "Help's on the way," said the artificial voice. "Hold tight."

William was about to respond, but then something heavy crashed into the door. The enemy was trying to break it down. One of them shouted for Will and Ron to surrender and the former supervisor compressed his lips and made a quick decision. Help would not arrive quickly enough. Will began to form a portal that would take them directly into the control room—and there was no time to expend the energy to make it one of the special, untraceable variety.

"Go through, Ronald. I shall be right behind you."

Ronald hesitated. They had agreed not to leave each other's sight, even for a second. "We go through together." Ron shook his head. The portal was too small for side-by-side, but if they held hands they could slip through as close to the same time as possible.

He held out his hand, demanding William take it, "We go through together, or we stay together."

With his other hand, he pointed his gun at the door, ready to shoot if need-be.

William didn't argue. The hair at the nape of his neck was standing up and he suddenly had the feeling that he was never going to see Ronald again. It made no sense, but he didn't have time to question it. He kissed his lover swiftly and he urged him to go on through, still holding his hand. The door burst open just as Ronald stepped through the portal and William turned and fired quickly, hitting the first two enemies and putting them out of commission. Unfortunately, there were six more behind them and they rushed through the door before Will could follow his partner through the portal. One of them fired on him and William cried out as a slug struck him in the wrist, making his hand go numb. His pistol dropped to the floor and he summoned his death scythe, lips white and compressed in pain.

Attempting to wield it one-handed with a bullet lodged in his wrist proved to be an impossible task, and he kicked out at his opponents as they surrounded him. He was seized and he struggled against their hold as they began to drag him away from the portal. Ronald's arm came back through and William was forced to make a quick decision born of love he'd never felt for anyone before. He released Ronald's hand, prying his fingers off until Ronald lost his hold on him. The sudden break in resistance must have made Ronald overbalance on the other side, and his hand vanished through the portal with the rest of him.

William banished the portal so that the enemy couldn't go through after his lover, and he put up an impressive fight. He knocked one of the enemy agent's teeth loose and he broke another's nose before one of them hit him hard upside the back of his head and knocked him out.

Lawrence turned and took aim when the portal formed in the room with him and Eric, but he relaxed when he saw that it was only Ronald. It then occurred to him that the young man was alone and looking quite frantic.

"Where is your partner, Mister Knox?"

Ronald had been halfway through when William had halted, and he felt himself being pulled back, making him think that they had broken through and grabbed William. Ron had given a tug, leaning towards safety hoping to win the game of tug-o-war...but just as he gave a firm tug, he felt William's fingers slide from his grip and he fell, alone, through the portal which then closed.

"No!" Ronald pushed himself up, reaching out to try and catch the portal and reopen it, "William!"

His mind buzzed with a strange, desperate panic, he didn't even realize he wasn't alone in the room, or that he'd been asked a question.

"Ronnie," called Eric, "Snap out o' it an' tell us wha' happened!"

"If he is alone then that means Spears must still be in the room they reported being trapped in," guessed Lawrence. He pulled out his communication device to urge the team to work faster and get to William before it was too late. Alexander relayed the message and Eric tried to calm Ronald down.

"Oh shit," muttered Alex. He looked at Alan with wide eyes. "They got Spears. Strike team two just reported they teleported out with him before they could get there. So far they're holding headquarters but I'm betting those goons are going to try and use Mister Spears as a hostage or try to get him to tell where our camp is."

If they found out where the most vulnerable members of the exiles were, they could go after them and attempt to use them all to force the cooperation of their fighters and leaders.

"William's one of the last men who'd crack and let slip important information." Alan frowned, "...What worries me is that he'd resist too much."

He shook his head, not wanting to think of what would happen to the man, "At any rate, I'll report this to the board members who are still here. We should at least get the civilians moved to another, safer location. A place they can't drag out of William if they manage to break through his walls...or...find out another way..." he swallowed, thinking about them reading his records. He gathered Matthew in his arms, "I'll be back soon, keep communications open."

"No-they got him! They got him!" Ronald cried out as Eric stopped him from opening a new portal.

"Ronnie, stop an' think," urged Eric as he restrained the frantic young reaper. "Ya dun' know where they took him! Wha' good is it going tae do yeh tae portal tae where he go' nabbed?"

Lawrence listened to the orders coming through over communications, and he informed his companions of what he was hearing. "The Undertaker is attempting to track the portal's destination. If he succeeds, we shall send a team on a rescue mission."

He grimaced as it occurred to him that the enemy was likely taking William to another base—one that would likely be too heavily guarded for them to succeed in a rescue. He didn't have the heart to mention that very real possibility to Ronald, though. He trusted that Spears would give the enemy nothing they could use against them. "Just try to stay calm, lad. We're going to do everything in our power to get him back."

"Shit..." Ronald stopped struggling and looked down at his hand that had held William's, "He let go. Why'd he let go? I could have pulled him through safe. Father Anderson—I want to be part of the rescue team!"

"Of course you do," soothed Anderson, "and it can be arranged. First we need to know what we are dealing with and we cannot do anything for William before that."

Eric rubbed Ronald's back comfortingly. "We'll get him back, kid. Will's too strong tae give in no matter wha' they do tae him. Jus' be strong fer him."

Ronald gritted his teeth. He wasn't a patient reaper, and he was feeling anxious already so he knew that if Anderson and Eric didn't want him doing anything stupid, they had better keep a close eye on him. The look he gave Eric made that clear.

William endured another blow to the face...and another after that. He gagged as he was kicked in the ribs and he heard and felt one of them snap. With his wrists cuffed behind his back, he could do nothing save curl into a fetal position to try and lessen the damage. His assailant grabbed his hair by the roots and dragged him painfully to his knees, forcing his head back to look up at him.

"We take no pleasure in this, Mister Spears," said the black-haired reaper. "Tell us where the rest of your group is hiding, and this can all end."

William just glared silently at him, his eyes watering due to his hair being pulled.

The enemy agent glanced at his superior and the man nodded. He dragged William over to a chair and he bound him to it. He produced a device that Will recognized as a taser, and William braced himself. It did no good. He bit his tongue hard as the volts arched through him and made him twitch, and a pained sound gurgled on his bloodied lips. It lasted for a count of five before the torturer stopped, giving Will a chance to catch his breath and recover from it.

"Tell us where they are and declare your allegiance to our cause, William," urged the leader of his captors—a man with pale blond, wavy hair. "You needn't die. Nobody else needs to die, in fact. All that we want is for all to be united under our vision. A better future awaits all Shinigami, if you and your friends would just cooperate."

William's mind was racing, and he knew with certainty that his companions had no chance of saving him. His abductors had taken his glasses, so he couldn't see well enough to try and determine where he was. Even with the bond between him and his allies, he knew that any attempt to rescue him would be a suicide mission, at best. He also knew that they would continue with this torture until it either killed him or they decided he was not worth keeping alive, and reap him themselves. They would attempt to use him against his compatriots first, though.

There was one other option, however. The thought of it frightened him inwardly, but he thought of Ronald and his resolve grew. Not even reapers wanted to die, but he didn't want to die badly...and he wasn't going to make it out of this alive unless he cracked. Who said it had to be authentic, though?

"Wait," he rasped when his tormentor activated the taser again. He bowed his head as if in defeat. "I shall cooperate. First I wish to publicly announce my alliance to your cause and explain to watchers why I have chosen to do so, however. They need to understand...and perhaps I can persuade them. Once this is done, I shall relinquish the information you require."

The leader regarded him with vague suspicion. "You certainly don't seem the sort to give in so easily, Mister Spears. I was expecting you to be more stubborn."

William gazed back at him stoically, his vision even further impaired due to one eye swelling shut. "I'm weary of running and hiding. We all are. This was our final effort to dethrone you, and obviously it is doomed to failure. There are children to think about. What good do we do them, raising them in the wilderness and always looking over our shoulders? You have won. So long as you vow not to harm anyone in the camp, I will give up the location to you. Just do as I ask...please."

The enemy agents looked at each other in thought, and after a moment the leader spoke again. "I shall discuss this with the board. Clean up his injuries and make him more presentable, in the meantime."

William swallowed and he gathered his courage, preparing himself to say the words that would likely be the very last he ever uttered.

The Undertaker got the location of where they'd taken William and he summoned ravens to scout the Birmingham headquarters. He cursed when they sent him a mental image of the heavily fortified building and he looked at Grell with a helpless shrug.

"Unless we all want to start measuring for coffins, I'd advise we don't try to bum-rush the place they're holding Mister Spears. Mayhap it's time to move on to the second part of the original plan and make arrangements for Mister Jeffries to get here so's we can send out a broadcast and expose the enemy for what they are. It could be Will's only chance. Once the reaper world knows, we'll have some backing t' negotiate the release of Spears. They wouldn't dare kill him for fear of a public uprising after that, love."

Grell nodded eagerly. After all, William's safety was one of the conditions of his contract when he was working for the Revivalists. He'd do anything if it meant William, Ronald, and now, Undertaker's safety.

"I sure hope Ronnie's not going to do something stupid before we get the chance." he muttered as an afterthought. The boy was head over heels in love with the man, and he wasn't the kind of kid to think first. "Let's get our broadcast on air before Ronnie has that chance."

"Indeed." The Undertaker lowered his mouth to Grell's for a quick kiss, ignoring the smear of blood as their lips met. Both of them were splattered with the vital fluid of their enemies but he was used to much worse...and so was Grell. "Let's get our carcasses down t' the Research floor, folks. We've got work to do yet, even if we've won the facility."

He began to summon a portal that would take them directly to that floor, and a couple of other reapers—Grell included—helped him so that he wouldn't expend too much energy in doing so. They made it through in moments, filing out of the portal in a line to greet their fellow rebels. Undertaker took Grell's hand and he walked with him to the doors of the control room. The ancient knocked on the door and pressed his face against the little window on it so that Anderson could see it was him. A couple of seconds later, Lawrence opened the door to let him and Grell inside.

"I'm pleased to see that your team suffered no losses, old friend," said Lawrence. "What were your findings?"

The Undertaker took off his hat and he shook his shaggy silver head, holding the headwear by the brim. He glanced at Ronald and he felt pity for the obviously distraught young man. "It isn't good, chap. I know where they've got him but if we go after Will now, we might as well be signing our own names on the death lists. I think our best bet is to publicize this struggle quick as we can, before these blokes can try t' use Spears as a bargaining chip. They'll have to keep him alive if they don't want a revolution on their hands, by my reckoning."

At that moment, the screens in the control room flickered and a broadcast came on—evidently over several channels. Lawrence turned to look and his eyes widened when William T. Spears' beaten, swollen face appeared on the screen. Enemy Dispatch hadn't wasted any time broadcasting their success in capturing one of the most prominent, well-known members of the rebel uprising.

"Citizens of the realm, we have in our custody one of the leaders of the terrorist group that has been committing treason and violence against Dispatch. We can be merciful, however. Mister Spears has agreed to denounce his alliance with the terrorists and he wishes to urge his associates to do the same."

The speaker paused before addressing William, who appeared to be seated in a chair with some unknown reaper standing behind him. "Go ahead, Agent Spears. Say what it is you want to say."

Ronald had been upset by the news that there could be no rescue attempt for William, and he'd been about to suggest he go alone as only one member could slip in under the radar with any luck. But his words froze on his lips the second he saw his lover's face on screen.

His eyes widened and his stomach clenched painfully. "Will!" He pushed his way past the others so that he could be close to the screen, reaching up and touching the glass where Will's image was.

He didn't like this—not one bit.

William looked at the camera, his expression betraying no fear. "My fellow citizens, I have been instructed to announce my allegiance to the Revivalist movement and to betray my associates, so that they might see reason and abandon the resistance against those who have come into power. It is with a heavy heart that I say to you now that there is no peace to be had. No compromise. These people are relentless, ruthless and without so much of an ounce of credibility..."

Back at the encampment, Alex had a small crowd of people surrounding him, watching the broadcast over his computer. He'd slipped his headphones off but he'd left them around his neck so that he could still use the microphone if needed, and he shushed everyone when people started murmuring.

"Shut it! I've got to concentrate!" There was only so much he could do from there, but he'd be damned if he'd allow them to cut the broadcast off if he could help it. He saw the barrel of a gun being pressed against his former boss's temple, and he groaned.

"Alan...I've got a bad feeling," confessed Alex as he did his best to lock the signal. He needed to be there in the control room if he was to do anything more.

Ronald's eyes widened and his heart skipped a few painful beats. "Get that thing away from my lover's head ya fucker!" he cried out at the screen. That was it. He needed to go-now!

"Undertaker! Give me the bloody location!"

The mortician shook his head, his bright gaze fixated on one of the screens. "You'll do no good to him rushing in there alone and killing yourself, lad. They wouldn't dare—"

William spoke again over the broadcast again. "I have been given the choice to betray my allies or be tortured and die. To that end, I make my peace now and I urge everyone watching to rise up and fight. Do not give in to this tyranny. Resist it. You aren't alone. Myself and others have been criminalized for—"

William was suddenly struck in the side of the head with the butt of a gun and his head whipped to the side. There was the sound of cursing and someone yelling to turn the camera off, and yet the picture remained. William spat out a tooth and he looked into the camera groggily, a faint, triumphant smirk curving his bloodstained lips. "Fight. Do not give in. Ronald, I—"

The barrel of the gun pressed against his temple again and before William could complete his sentence, the weapon went off. Will fell to the side, his body going limp. The man holding the gun pointed it at the camera and shot...and then the picture went to snow.

"Dear gods," whispered Lawrence, hardly believing what he'd just witnessed. "Mother of death, they just publicly executed him."

Ronald was as silent as the dead. His eyes widened and overflowed with tears, and his heart felt like it had stopped completely. Pain spread through his entire body and soul as what he'd just seen sank in. He couldn't hear anything but a staticy ringing in his head, couldn't feel anything but cold dread, and couldn't see anything but his lover's death playing in his mind over and over again. A large, painful lump formed in his throat, choking him.

Once processed, the blond let out a desperate, painful cry that ripped his voice into a sound that was unrecognizable.

"NOOOO-WILLIAM!" He lunged at the screen, knocking the expensive equipment off the table, and the monitor exploded, its screen shattering and electric sparks flying upwards.

Grell reacted first, ignoring his own tears in order to grab Ronald before he hurt himself, pulling him into a tight hug, simply letting the boy scream out in agony. He knew better than anyone that Ronald needed to let it out.

He looked up at Undertaker. "He can't go on fighting like this. I'm taking him back to Base," he said over Ronald's wailing.

The Undertaker stood still and bewildered, his mouth hanging open as he stared up at one of the five remaining monitors. It took him a moment to register what his lover said, and he snapped his mouth shut and nodded. "Yeah...do that. Get the boy out of here. Lawrence..."

His voice wavered and he coughed. Bloody hell, he'd just said that those fools would never publicly execute William, and yet they had. It was a stupid, stupid move on their part. They'd just made a martyr out of Spears and they'd buggered up their campaign royally by doing so. He suspected they already realized that and soon, the hornet's nest would stir as they worked to correct their mistake. He and his fellow rebels were even more vulnerable now. The enemy would be desperate to take them out and they were few in numbers as it was. Even with his dollies, they couldn't hold against an all-out assault.

"I am here," assured Lawrence in a grief-stricken voice. "What do you suggest, my friend?"

"Get that fellow Jeffries here quickly," answered the mortician, his own voice ragged with surprised angst. William had looked up to him...admired him. He'd utterly failed the boy and the only feeling of utter helplessness he could compare to this was when he delivered his own dead child. "We've got to beat these nasties to it and send out a broadcast of our own, if we can. We need to decide who's going t' make the speech to the realm and get it put out there for the public to see."

Lawrence considered him for a moment and his sympathetic gaze slid to Ronald as Eric created a portal and Grell supported the collapsing, grief-stricken young man in his arms. "Honestly? I believe you are best suited for it."

"Me?" Undertaker sputtered. "In case you've failed to notice, I'm not the most diplomatic chap."

"Perhaps not," reasoned Anderson, "but you are the most influential and famous of everyone here. Believe it or not, if the public sees you publicly declaring your support of the rebellion and decrying what the reaper world just witnessed, it will have a larger impact."

The Undertaker sighed and he watched Grell take Ronald through the portal that Eric had formed. "Bloody hell, I hope you're right, mate. It's been my experience that I just tend to make things worse when I try to speak publicly, but mayhap this time will be the exception. Let's send for Alex and get this show on the road."

Alexander was stunned; like everyone crowding around him. They'd all seen the broadcast of William's execution, and he couldn't even pretend it was a hoax. They'd all seen his cinematic records spill...seen the splatter of blood, brain matter and skull bits erupt from the other side of his head when that fucker pulled the trigger.

"S-someone grab this," he gagged, pulling the computer off his lap and thrusting it blindly away. His stomach was rolling and he hastily yanked his headphones off to scramble away from the shelter. He started heaving before he even made it out from under the shelter and he fell to his hands and knees in the grass, emptying the contents of his stomach there.

While he was retching his guts out, a portal opened in the center of camp and Grell came through it with a sobbing Ronald.

Alan handed his crying son—who had been startled by the sound of the gunshot—off to another reaper, hurrying after Alex to make sure he was okay. But the appearance of Grell and Ronald distracted him from that task. He knew Ronald wasn't okay. Alan had little doubt that Ronald had also seen the broadcast.

"Get him over into a wagon," he told Grell, his voice strained with his own emotion. "We have everything important packed and ready for transport just in case, and as they have seen... well, as they likely know our location we need to evacuate..."

Ronald let out another loud sob, his legs giving out and causing Grell to pick him up bridal-style.

"Understood." Grell nodded. "They need Alex to port in to put out our own broadcast. I'll stay and help get everyone to a new location." He rushed Ronald over to the wagons and set him inside one of them, covering him with a blanket to shield him from the chill of shock. Then he took over, commanding the others and getting the portals opening up to the next location.

Alan took his son from the reaper he'd handed him to as the man hurried his own family to the portals, then he turned to Alex. "Are you alright?" he asked as gently as he could, rubbing his son's back.

Alex wiped his mouth and straightened up, nodding. "Y-yeah. Sorry. It was just such a shock. B-boss Spears is...he's..." He shook his head and he took his glasses off to wipe his eyes. "Shit. How's Knox? This has to be murder on him. If it were Fabian I...damn it, I can't do this. I've got to get moving."

Sniffing, Alex patted Alan's shoulder in a show of gratitude and he replaced his glasses on his face. "They aren't getting away with this. I'm gonna do all I can to make sure of that."

"Ronald's...not so great. Do you want me to go with you? I can hand Matthew off to another couple to take him to the new location." Alan offered. He knew he had to make the decision quickly. The supply wagons were already gone and not many of their group remained.

Alex bit his lip indecisively. Humphries' company would be of comfort to him and he knew that Alan would love to see his spouse and be at his side. He wanted to see Fabian himself, and he knew the man had suffered a gunshot wound in the fight. Alan and Eric had made a deal that the former stay with the camp and out of combat, though. He didn't want to get in trouble with Eric. The man was scary when he got angry and right now, he was surely already angry enough as it was.

"I...I'll leave that up to you," he finally said. "Just make sure you tell your husband it was your idea and not mine, if you come along. I like my limbs intact."

Eric was in a state of numb shock. Of all his work associates, William had been the one that seemed most infallible. He'd thought Spears would be the last one to fall. How wrong he was. Maybe there was a chance. Maybe if they got to him quick enough and got him into surgery...

But that was no ordinary bullet they'd fired through his skull. It was a death scythe bullet. They'd all seen his cinematic records spill. He needed to stop kidding himself and face reality; there was no coming back from a fatal shot like that. Eric's breathe quickened and his eyes burned. Poor Ronnie...the kid loved Will so much, and now this. In a sudden fit, Eric slammed his fist into the wall with a bellow of helpless rage. Lawrence whirled in alarm and he went to him before the Scotsman could deliver another blow to the blameless wall. The Undertaker started to intervene as well, but seeing that his friend had a handle on it, he returned his attention to writing down his speech.

"Eric, stop this," urged the older reaper, putting himself—foolishly perhaps—between Eric and the wall. He held up his hands in supplication and he looked into Eric's blazing, grief-stricken eyes. The Scotsman's fist hovered in the air, halted in mid-swing with tears in the glove from the blow he'd stricken. Lawrence took hold of the fist and Eric's other hand comfortingly. "Now is not the time, my boy. We've and entire community to think of, and we must hold it together if we're to keep them safe—including your family. Please, just calm down."

Eric swallowed hard and bowed his head. He nodded and drew a ragged breath. "Aye. Vengeance an' grief'll have tae wait."

Lawrence released his hands and patted his shoulder. "Good lad."

They sensed a portal forming and all three of them tensed, but they soon recognized the energies and they relaxed. Eric's eyes widened when his spouse stepped out of it with Alexander. He went to him and he hugged him, choking back bitter tears. He didn't even ask why Alan had come after they'd agreed for him to stay behind with their son until they were absolutely sure the threat was neutralized.

Alan didn't offer up an explanation either; simply wrapping his arms around his husband.

"Why?" was all that Eric could manage. Why would the enemy publicly execute a prisoner they were trying to use as leverage? They didn't even give him a trial, and they had to know how badly it was going to reflect on their organization.

"Uh, I think I can answer that," said Alex. "I checked their frequency before we left and they're in an uproar over it. Seems the plan was never to execute him but the guy holding the gun on him panicked when they couldn't cut off the broadcast, and he shot him to...shut him up."

Alex's voice broke and he looked away. "So that means it's my fault he's dead. I'm the one that locked their transmission so they couldn't end it. They could have just cut the power off on the camera, but I guess they didn't think of that...and now..."

"Wasnae yer fault," Eric said huskily.

"That's right," sighed Lawrence. "You cannot hold yourself responsible for other people's stupidity. Shutting off the camera would have been the sensible way for them to end the broadcast if they could not do it through normal means. This was a cold-blooded act of murder, and now the entire reaper world knows that this organization is a ruthless, bloodletting conglomerate. It is a tragedy, but we must not let William's sacrifice be in vane. Alex, please prepare the broadcast. We need to get it sent out while this terrible event is still fresh to our realm."

Alex took a deep breath, and he nodded.

-To be continued